


The Prince in the tower

by maylor39



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Postpartum Depression, Slow Burn, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 106,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maylor39/pseuds/maylor39
Summary: Brian May accepted a job in Cornwall to tutor the Taylor’s child, Clare Taylor. Little did he know about the Taylor’s family secrets. Especially, the one that will change his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE DO NOT SEND FANFIC LINKS TO QUEEN MEMBERS, QUEEN’S FAMILY MEMBERS, FRIENDS, AND THE BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY CASTS.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **THANK YOU. x**

⊱✿⊰ ════════ ★ • ☾• ★ ════════ ⊱✿⊰

 

 **Early** **April** **1968**

A soft knock on the car’s window woke Brian up from his deep slumber.

“Mr. May, you’ve arrived at the Taylor’s manor,” a uniformed elder gentlemen, who looks like a butler, told him after Brian rolled down the Rolls-Royce’s backseat window.

Still a bit sleepy, Brian rubbed his eyes, smiling as he nods. “Thank you.”

The said butler then opened the car’s door for him. After some light stretching, Brian took his briefcase that has been resting on his side the whole four hour car ride.

Careful not to wrinkle his charcoal-gray English suit, Brian stepped out of the car.

“ _Whoa!_ ”  
  
The three-story Victorian style mansion stood proudly before him. Huge immaculate garden, and lawn that goes on forever, it was a far cry from Brian’s apartment back in Feltham. And when he turn around, there’s also a fountain in the center of the place. The air smells like freshly cut grass and lilies.  
Brian couldn’t believe that he’ll be staying at the same Taylor’s mansion for five months as a private tutor.

“Mr. May, I’m glad you made it safe,” another man then appeared from the wide wooden main french doors in front of Brian. “I’m Edmund Wyatt. I’m Mrs. Taylor’s assistant. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Ah! Mr. Edmund,” Brian beamed, recognizing him, and offered his hand for a handshake. “Thank you, Sir. The pleasure’s all mine.”

Mr. Edmund Wyatt. The man who looks like about the same age as Brian’s youngest Uncle Richard May, smiled, and shook Brian’s hand firmly. He’s been exchanging letters with Brian for almost a month or so now regarding the said tutoring request. One of Brian’s professors from Uni recommended him.

  
Since Brian badly and desperately needed the money, he took the offer, even though he have to haul his broke ass from Feltham to Cornwall.  
And, the ad is too good for Brian to refuse—he just have to tutor the Taylor’s child! He’ll stay at the mansion for free, his food will also be included, day-off during weekends and most especially, a good pay! _What_ could he ask for!?

“It’s also finally nice to meet you in person. Please. Just call me ‘Brian’”.

“Likewise, Brian,” Mr. Edmund said. “By the way, our Head Butler here is Mr. Tony.”

Mr. Tony gave Brian a quick bow, then instructed the other helpers to carry Brian’s suitcases inside the mansion. He focused on the last helper the most, as he was the one who is carrying Brian’s beloved guitar case.

Mr. Edmund placed his arm around his shoulder and said, “Well, let’s go inside. Mrs. Taylor is waiting.”

  

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

     Brian couldn’t help not to stare at awe with the mansion’s rich exterior. The place looks like a high class hotel: high ceiling, expensive looking furnitures, huge chandelier that glistens as he climbs the carpeted grand staircase. Just now, he passed a grand piano, and next to it was a cello.

“I hope you didn’t have leg cramps while on your way here, Brian,” said Mr. Edmund.

“No, Sir,” Brian shakes his head. “Rather slept like a baby throughout the entire car ride.”

Mr. Edmund hums as he nods approvingly.

“Mrs.Taylor, Mr. Brian May —the tutor— had arrived,” Mr. Edmund knocked on one of the many doors on the second floor. Brian tried to remember a distinct mark of the said room, afraid to get lost once he’s alone.

“Please come in.”

A sight of a beautiful blonde woman clad in satin A-cut peach dress came into Brian’s view. A familiar and gentle motherly vibe welcomed Brian, as she walked towards them from her mahogany study table. The huge chunk of diamond sitting on the top of her wedding ring twinkled, as she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, “Hello, Brian! I’m Mrs. Winifred Taylor. I’m so happy that you’ve finally arrived. I was quite worried.”

She shook his hand, and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. The gesture surprised Brian a bit.  
Her mild, strawberry-sweet perfume wafted through Brian’s nostrils, as Mrs. Taylor then placed both her hands on his shoulders, then looked up to study his face. She only reach past his shoulders, despite already wearing heels.

“Pardon me for saying this, but I must say that you’re very _much_ good looking person, Brian. I’m afraid that my little girl Clare might fall for you.”

Brian felt the hot flush on his cheeks. Clearly, he was caught off-guard with the surprise compliment. “Oh! Thank you, Madame Taylor. It’s very nice of you to say.”

“Edmund, you didn’t say that Brian is this good looking,” jokingly, she turned her head to the side to give Mr. Edmund a look.

“I’m afraid that I wasn’t aware either, Madame,” says Mr. Edmund. “The photo of him he had sent didn’t do him any justice.”

“Aw! Please. You two are being too kind,” embarrassed, Brian covered his face with both of his hands and quickly removed it. The gesture earned a chuckle from the two.

“Oh, dear! Don’t be shy now. And please, just call me ‘Win’,” she said charmingly. Her blue eyes shining. “I trust that Mr. Edmund had already explained everything on his letters.”

“Yes. He did,” Brian nodded, smiling towards Mr. Edmund’s direction.

“If that’s the case, then welcome to my humble home. I hope you’ll find comfort in your stay here as you tutor my little girl,” she then turned her head to the side again to check the time on the tall antique grandfather clock that was placed on the left corner of the room. It said that it’s already five in the afternoon. “By the way, have you eaten, dear?”

“Yes. I did. I brought some packed lunch, and ate it while I’m on my way here. Thank you, Madame,” Brian smiled warmly. She sounded like his own mother.

“Well, that’s good,” her hand then move to lightly caress Brian’s soft cheek. Her lips parted as if she is to say more, but her face morphed into a smile instead. “I like your curls.”

“Ah…thank you,” slowly, Brian found himself starting to get uncomfortable with how _touchy_ she is.

Just as Mrs. Taylor started to play with Brian’s hair with her delicate manicured fingers, with a genuine amused look on her face, a uniformed maid walked in and announced,“Mr. Finkle is on the other line, Madame. He said it’s urgent.”

“Oh! I understand,” said Mrs. Taylor, finally dropping her hand on her side, much to Brian’s relief. “Very well, I’ll see you at dinner, dear Brian. I just have to talk to my lawyer.”

“Of course. Thank you again.”

“Edmund, please proceed without me. You know what to do.”

Mr. Edmund smiled and closed the door after Mrs. Taylor and the maid left the room.

“Brian, please have a seat,” Mr. Edmund pointed one of the khaki colored velvet sofas.

As Brian settles on his seat, the older gentleman then removed the white cloth cover over the silver tray that’s on the mahogany coffee table. The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies and biscuits, tickles Brian’s nostrils teasingly. Mr. Edmund then placed a tea cup in front of him, and serves him warm tea.

“This one’s imported from India. Its called ‘ _Darjeeling_ ’. There’s a bit of sugar in it though,” said Mr. Edmund, as he serves himself his own cup. “Hope it suits your taste.”

“You’re most gracious. I’ll be fine even if you’ll give me tap water,” Brian inspected the fine bone China teacup in his hands.

He rarely experience this type of luxury. Even his mother’s own fine China isn’t as _fine_ as what he have now. It looks like the whole tea set on the table alone costs more than all of his mother’s collections combined.

“Oh! Nonsense,” Mr. Edmund shook his light brown head. “You might be hired as a tutor, but you _shall_ be treated here as a guest. With how Mrs. Taylor acted a while ago, between you and me, it’s safe to say that she immediately  _adored_ you.”

“Errr… I think she’s just being nice. She reminds me of my Mum.”

Mr. Edmund nodded again as he sips some tea. Brian did the same. As he expected the tea is delicious, even though the taste is quite foreign on his tongue.

“How old you say you are again, Brian?” Mr. Edmund asked after a few minutes of silence, in between sips.

“Twenty-one.”

“And you said on your last letter you just graduated College. Is that right?”

“That’s right, Sir,” Brian confirmed. “And yes, just recently graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Physics at Imperial College London.”

“And with honors! Ah! Professor Lovell couldn’t _stop_ singing you praises over the phone. Your parents must me absolutely proud and ecstatic,” Mr. Edmund’s green eyes shined. “And I believe you mentioned that you’re an only child?”

“Yes. That’s correct,” smiling bashfully, Brian couldn’t stop himself from counting every compliments he heard the moment he stepped inside the mansion.

“Well, Brian, I must say that obviously your credentials are _over_ - _qualified_ to be Clare’s tutor,” Mr. Edmund pointed out, blotting his lips with a napkin. He then stood up from the sofa across him and take the stacks of documents that was already prepared on the table. “Mind if we start discussing your contract now?”

Brian gulps the tea as Mr. Edmund hands him his own copy of the contract inside a folder.

“Right, let’s start,” said Mr. Edmund, at the same time Brian opened the folder and spreads it on his lap.

Brian immediately scanned the writings on the two-page document, as Mr. Edmund enumerates and explained each bullets. He didn’t notice any suspicious or illegal on the Terms, so he just pretended that he is still listening, and nods or hums in agreement when he needs to.  
  
Halfway through the contract reading, the other door of the room slowly cracked open. Brian raised his hazel gaze towards it, as he nibbles on a cookie. He thought it was Mrs. Taylor. But it wasn’t.

The person on the other side, carefully and quietly poked their head as if to eavesdrop. Brian then turned his eyes on Mr. Edmund; whose back is turned against the door and eyes are still fixated on the document in his hand, didn’t seem to notice the third presence and continue reading.

A playful smile was on the person’s pretty face when Brian return his eyes on them. The person then placed their right index finger on their pink lips. “ _Shhhh_ …” the person mouthed.

Since Brian didn’t feel any dangerous feeling towards the person, he decided to just play along. With the person’s long shaggy —slightly tangled and messy— blonde hair, and big, innocent doe-y cerulean eyes, Brian immediately noticed the resemblance with Mrs. Taylor.

‘ _Ah! She must be Clare then,_ ’ Brian thinks to himself, not breaking eye contact with the person.

Although, Brian was a bit taken aback when he realized that the Clare in his mind was much _older_ than he imagined her to be. The way how she was briefly described by Mr. Edmund on his letters, and Mrs. Taylor herself, Brian thought that the young Clare Taylor is still in her tween years.  
But the Clare _right_ _now_ that is still wearing her oversized white cotton nightshirt that past her legs, looks like she’s already in her late teens.

Clare cocks her head to the side, as if studying Brian’s features. Her playful smile slightly turned sly, making Brian’s brows slightly furrowed.

“Brian, kindly sign here and here,” Mr. Edmund instructed, snapping Brian out of his thoughts, as he hands him a fountain pen. Still, he didn’t notice Clare on the doorway behind him.

“Mr. Edmund, when am I going to be able to formally meet Clare?” Brian asked, eyes still on Clare. Her eyes becomes darker, as she twirled a lock of hair on her finger.

“Tonight,” Mr. Edmund answered, fixing his own copy of the contract neatly back on the folder.  
  
“Tonight?” Brian felt that his heart dropped on the pit of his stomach when Clare flashed him a flirty smirk.

“Yes, Brian. _Tonight_ ,” confirming, there’s a slight confusion on Mr. Edmund’s tone. “She’ll be joining us for supper. She’ll finally be home tonight from Boarding School. In Roedean. She should be here in less than an hour.”

Brian looked at Mr. Edmund, baffled. ‘ _Then who is_ —?’

When he shifted his eyes at the doorway again, Clare had already disappeared like a ghost.

Finally realizing that Brian’s focus wasn’t all his, Mr. Edmund then looked back on the door that was left slightly open. He noticed that Mr. Edmund’s face turned slightly pale. Before Brian could ask any question, the other door burst open, and Mrs. Taylor showed herself again.

She looks quite stressed out, and dramatically falls back on the seat next to Brian.

“Was the conversation with Mr. Finkle didn’t went well?” Mr. Edmund was quick on his feet, and offered the mistress a cup of tea.

“It did. But good Lord! You know how I _hate_ talking to that man sometimes,” Mrs. Taylor dismissively waved her hand, refusing the tea. “He gives me massive headaches. As if I don’t have _enough_.”

The wrinkles on her forehead appeared as she massages her temples.

Cautiously, Brian offered,“Do you mind if I can borrow your wrist, Madame?”

Without any hesitation, Mrs. Taylor offered her wrist to Brian. He then starts performing acupressure on her.

“Ooohh! That’s nice,” a pleasured moan escaped her mouth. Her head lolling on his shoulder. “Oooh! Please. Don’t stop. Keep going, Brian.”

Brian desperately tried to block out any dirty thoughts off his mind—the woman sounds like she’s having an orgasm! But it seems that Mrs. Taylor is really trying to tease him. “Oohhh! Ahhh!”

Really uncomfortable, Brian quickly cut acupressure short. “That should do it for now.”

Mrs. Taylor touched her wrist, and looked at Brian. “You’re quite good. I feel a little better.”

“Thank you,” said Brian. “Though that is just a temporary relief.”

“Should I call a masseuse, Madame?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Mrs. Taylor answered, finally accepting the cup. “How did you know on how to do acupressure, dear? Stress from school? Or giving your girlfriend one?”

“Not really,” said Brian. “Before moving out from my parents flat, I normally give each of them acupressure: my Mum from knitting and houseworks, and my Dad, after a long day of work.”

“Ah! Such lucky parents to have you,” said Mrs. Taylor, unforeseen hint of sadness in her eyes.

There was a pause.

“If you don’t mind, I can teach Clare on how to do it,” Brian offered. “My mum taught me to do acupressure when I was eight. Then as years goes by, it turned out to be our —and my dad’s— bonding hour before bedtime. While we tell each other stories about our day.”

“Do you think you can teach her?” almost wistfully, the mistress asked. Brian thought that his eyes are playing tricks on him when he saw tears brimming in her eyes.

“Yes. I guess if —”

He was cut short as Mrs. Taylor pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll be the _happiest_ mother in the world if you’ll be able to that, Brian. Thank you.”

Warily, Brian returned the hug. He looked up to see Mr. Edmund’s expression. But he also have a sad empathic look in his face.

“Very well then,” faking a chirped voice, Brian felt her untangle herself from him after some few beats. “Why don’t you go to your room now and have a quick rest. We’ll have a small celebration later. Edmund, please show Brian his room.”

“Shall we, Brian?” Mr. Edmund handed him back his briefcase, and his own copy of contract.

Brian stood from the sofa. He didn’t know what came over him when he decided to bow down and softly plant a kiss on her hand. “Thank you again, Mrs. Taylor. I shall see you and Clare later.”

He only earned a shy nod from the mansion’s blushing mistress, then turned her eyes on the floor-to-ceiling window. Brian followed her gaze, and appreciated the beauty of the setting sun.

  
~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

    “Make yourself at home, Mr. May,” Mr. Tony opened the guest room door that would be Brian’s room.

Brian tried to keep his composure even though he was so ready to run around his room, like a child inside a toy store. His bedroom is even bigger than his whole apartment. His bedroom looks like a fucking hotel suite! Brian cannot wait to lie down on his new upholstered king-size bed.

“That door is for your bathroom’s,” Mr. Tony continued. “—and this one’s, if you part the curtains, will be the door to the mansion’s veranda.”

“Thank you,” quite overwhelmed, Brian still couldn’t believe all of this.

“The maids had already arranged your clothes in that wardrobe —surprisingly you didn’t have _many_ — and your books are already arranged on the shelf, here. And your guitar case is inside the same wardrobe.”

“Thank you,” Brian knows he sounded like a broken record player now with his repetitive ‘Thank you’s’.

“Anything else you might need, Brian, don’t mind asking Mr. Tony,” said Mr. Edmund, handing him his bedroom keys. “The other room next to you, by the way, is the mini library. The main library is upstairs on the third floor.”

“Oh! Thank you again. I think I have all I need— too much even.”

Mr. Edmund smiled broadly, wrapped his arm around Brian’s shoulder. “I already told you, you’ll be treated as a guest here.”

“Thank you. This is so very gracious and generous of you and Mrs. Taylor.”

“Don’t mind it too much, young man,” said Mr. Edmund, lightly patting Brian’s back. “Well, we’ll just leave you now so you can rest. A maid will just call you later for supper.”

“I understand. Thank you again, Mr. Edmund. Mr. Tony.”

And so they left Brian after that.

Excitedly, Brian swiftly removed his shoes and dive on the bed.

  
“Oh!” The soft bed sheets, and fresh clean pillows welcomed him. Rolling on his back, Brian looked at the room’s chandelier and admired its elegance. The ceiling is painted sky blue with gold accent, and the room have a faint smell of peppermint. He’d really want to change his clothes first, explore his room, and check on his stuff, but he felt his eyelids slowly dropping. Finally having his muscles relax, Brian granted his body’s request to sleep again...

  
He was awoken with his own stomach growling. He thought he was just imagining things, feeling still a bit light headed, when he hears the sound of music from some off distance. Brian looked at the wall clock: it’s already nine-thirty in the evening!

“Shit!” Brian cussed himself, realizing that he’s too late for dinner. He’s already picturing the worst scenarios in his head: Mr. Edmund and Mrs. Taylor looking upset because he didn’t joined them. So rude of Brian. So much for acting and feeling at home!  
He immediately leap off the bed. Just as he’s on his way to the bathroom, someone knocked at his door.

“Brian, Mr. Edmund here. Please wake up.”

“Y-yes, I’m already awake,” Brian tried his best to hurriedly fix himself, and opened the door.  
To his surprise, Mr. Edmund is smiling, pleasantly even. Before the older man could scold him, Brian immediately apologize.  
“I’m so, so, _so sorry_ for missing supper. I didn’t realized I overslept—”

“ _Missed_?” Mr. Edmund looked at him, puzzled. And then he laughed. “It hasn’t even started _yet_ , Brian. But if you don’t mind dressing up quickly, that’ll be better. Then, please go to the garden after. Our little party is there. Understand?”

“O-Oh… okay. Yes, Sir. It’ll be quick.”

Right after he shut the door again, Brian did some light stretching to wake himself and his brain up.  
  
He found all of his clothes arranged meticulously neat, just like the ones on clothing stores, inside the huge and wide four-door Alder wardorbe; looking expensive than they actually cost.

 _If only Freddie_ _is here_ , Brian’s one hundred percent sure that Freddie will be secretly jealous of him. Freddie adored and lust everything that is expensive, high-class, and unique. Brian can picture his friend gladly getting into character, and will act as if he own the whole property.

“ _You fucking lucky bastard!”_  Brian could imagine Freddie saying with a naughty smile, while giving him a good whack on the shoulder blade.

Brian then made his way towards the bathroom. “My goodness!” he felt the grin on his face.

The first thing that he saw was the huge bathtub, and the see-through shower glass on the side.

Remembering that he couldn’t afford to waste more time admiring his own bathroom, Brian strips off all of his clothes and showered.  
After drying his hair with the hair dryer and arranging his curls ‘artfully’, he decided to wear a navy blue tweed blazer to top off his gray turtle neck. And instead of pairing his trousers with dress shoes, Brian decided to wear his black sneakers instead.

“Well, this will do I guess,” Brian stared back at his reflection, looking contented, in the floor-to-ceiling mirror of his room. “Let’s party!”

  

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

    One of the maids, Jade, guided Brian on his way to the mansion’s garden. Once he reached the said garden, Brian concluded right then and there, that rich and poor people have different denotation when it comes to a “ _small_ _party_ ”.

Growing up poor, Brian’s thought of a small party is having an intimate celebration between a handful of people; sharing some foods and drinks on a small table of someone’s dining area or living room. They’ll be lucky if they can afford a bottle of good wine.

Whilst right now, there’s at least 30 sharply-dressed people in front of him, mingling, with flute of champagne on their hands. The huge garden adorned with many tiny Christmas lights, a bonfire that lights up the place even more, and warms the cold summer air. Suited musicians on the side of the garden expertly playing Pachelbel’s ‘ _Cannon_ _in_   _D_   _Major_ ’, while the servers pirouettes between guests.

‘ _Ah! So there’s where it’s from,_ ’ Brian realized that he can see the side of the garden from his bedroom window.

“Oh! There you are, Brian!” Mrs. Taylor looks dazzling in her long-sleeve nude satin evening formal dress that shows enough cleavage and toned thigh.

Accompanying her was none other than Mr. Edmund himself, looking dapper. If Brian doesn’t know either of them, he could mistake them as a married couple. But in reality, Mrs. Taylor is a widow.

  
A server then appeared and served her a new flute of martini, then served Brian one as well.

Mrs. Taylor sauntered towards Brian. As he expected, she excitedly gives him air-kisses on both cheeks. “You look marvelous, sweetheart! I want you to finally meet her.”  
  
Brian smiled politely. “I was smitten by your beauty, myself, Madame.”

Mr. Edmund slightly raised his own glass, agreeing.

“Thank you, Mr. Brian May,” winking, Mrs. Taylor smiled with a tiny hint of flirting. Then with a clear, yet gentle and warm voice, she called,“Clare, _ma_ _petite_ _princesse_! Come here, _chéri_.”

A girl, probably not older than twelve — looks like a mini and younger version of Mrs. Taylor— appeared, among the throng of guests. Although, she quickly ducked behind her mother, looking like she’s afraid of Brian.

“Oh! No, _princesse_. Don’t be shy,” Mrs. Taylor giggled, gently pulling Clare away from hiding behind her back. “As you already know, he’s your new tutor. His name is Mr. Brian May.”

A pained, tiny squeak escaped the girl’s mouth.

“Please greet Mr. Brian, young lady.”

“No! I don’t want to have a tutor, Mum!” Clare starts to cry. Her blonde ringlets bounces, as she shakes her head. “I don’t like him!”

 _Ouch_.

“Um,” awkwardly, Brian shifts to his side.

“Please, sweetheart, don’t make a scene,” with a hint of nervousness on her tone, Mrs. Taylor crouched down to match her daughter’s height. “Brian is a good man. Look, he’s hurt now. And he was so excited to meet you. Isn’t that right, Brian?”

“I am,” said Brian in his most gentlest voice. “Hello, Clare. I’m happy to finally meet you.”

“Come on now, sweetheart,” Mrs. Taylor slightly nudges Clare towards him. “Don’t be shy now. Brian don’t bite.”

Wiping off her tears, Clare seized up Brian with a _questionable_ glare. Still, Brian tried his best to smile and offered his hand for a handshake. Although, he could feel that she’s still afraid. And angry at him.

“Go ahead, Clare,” it was Mr. Edmund who spoke this time. “Please _show_ your new tutor some respect.”

Clare’s narrowed eyes darted between Brian and Mr. Edmund. Before Brian could take back his hand, Clare walked closer to him. And gave Brian’s palm a hard slap.  
She then angrily threw her teddy bear on the ground, before running away from them. “Clare—”

“You’re all arseholes!”

Brian was aghast when he heard those words from the girl’s mouth. But then again, Clare was not the first child he’d heard cursing their parents when Brian was introduced as their tutor (he thinks it’s his height that makes him intimidating to children, and sometimes other adults), or if something wasn’t given to them, or something didn’t go their way.

“Oh my God!” Mrs. Taylor looked so embarrassed, covering the frown on her face with her hand. “Apologies for her behavior, Brian.”

“Oh! No! It’s alright, Madame,” Brian quickly assured them, feeling the watching eyes of some guests on them now. “This is not a new scene to me. Don’t worry. I’ll try my best for her to warm up. It’s a part of the job.”

“I’m very sorry, Brian,” said Mr. Edmund looked at him ruefully. “I’ll try to get her—”

“No, Sir. It’s fine—”

“Mrs. Taylor! Such a pleasant evening!”

“Ah! Mr. Dhal! I’m glad you came.”

Brian felt the conversation ended right there, when the new guest came. Confused, Brian watches as Mr. Edmund and Mrs. Taylor walk away from him, as if they’re not talking just now.

Looking at the people surrounding him, everyone is acting as if nothing happened: the musicians are now playing an upbeat number from Tchaikovsky, new set fresh glasses of white wine, and more guests arriving. A couple of of guests almost even bump on him, as they make their way to the food table, already quite tipsy. Didn’t even bother apologizing.

Despite the number of people in the garden, Brian felt totally alone. He noticed that no one bothered to pick up Clare’s teddy bear from the ground. Neither Mr. Edmund nor Mrs. Taylor.  
A little bit disappointed, he shakes off some of the dirt off the toy. Brian safely tucked it in under his arm and looks for his student.

He wasn’t sure, but after a while, Brian felt as if someone is watching him... from somewhere. Specifically from one of the mansion’s many windows. Ignoring the thought, he just keeps walking.

“Hi there, handsome Mister. Are you Mr. and Mrs. White’s son?” a woman dressed in a deep black V-neckline fit gown, who looks like around Brian’s age, stops him from his track. Her hand firm on his free arm.  
Brian immediately smelled the stench of alcohol mixed with strong female perfume, almost making him dizzy. She’s a beautiful brunette, but her eyes are so glassy it looks like she’s so high and going to pass out.

“No. I am not,” politely, Brian removed her hand off him. “If you’ll excuse me—”

The woman snaked her arm around Brian’s waist, much to his surprise. She then tiptoed to purr against his ear,“If you want, you _can_ be. I’m already paid up for the whole night, baby. Fuck the White’s son— you’re my type. You can _use_ me.”

Brian felt the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his brain stopped for a nanosecond. _What on earth is this party?!_

Trying his very best not to attract any more attention, he removed the woman’s arm off him.  
“Have a great night. Excuse me,” saying in a low growl, he strode away from her. Didn’t even bother to look back.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      To his surprise, Brian found Clare inside the main library, sitting by the bay window. Her left shoeless foot, dangling, as she quietly watches the party alone.

“Hi, Clare,” hearing his own voice, Brian sounded as if he’s approaching a hurt little animal.

Clare gasped. Her blue eyes wide and alert, looking almost ready to escape.

“No! No! _Please_ don’t run away,” Brian pleaded, both hands up in the air, surrendering. “Please. I’m not going to force you to talk to me now. I just want to return this.”

He waited for her response. Brian must’ve waited for a few minutes before he decided to speak again, “If… if you don’t mind, may I stay here for a while? I just feel so out of place out there. Especially, since I hardly know anybody. I was suppose to give this back to your Mum after the party, because I want to look for a quiet place while I wait for it to finish. I didn’t expect that I’ll find you here.”

Clare is still not saying anything, but Brian could feel that the air between them becomes less tensed. To occupy himself, Brian randomly picked a reading chair that gives them both good distance from each other, after randomly picking a book from one of the shelves. He can feel that Clare is watching him using her peripheral vision.

“Can I have my teddy back?” finally, Clare spoke after what seems hours of waiting.

Brian felt his heart leaped when he finally saw the crack to break her walls. But he knows that he have to be very careful from this point forward.

“Are you comfortable by me handing it to you? Or would you want me to put it on the sofa near you?”

Another couple of minutes of waiting for Brian. He then hear Clare’s footsteps approaching him.

“Give it to me,” she asked, voice cracked. Her arm extended to him.

“Oh, dear,” Brian’s mouth went dry, as he looked up to take a good look of her face while handing her toy back.

Her face pale, eyes puffy, and her nose red from crying. Automatically, Brian offered his handkerchief to the child, but she just stared at it dejectedly. Her eyes now on Brian’s worried face, waiting.

“Let me wipe your tears, Clare. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

Clare sniffed as she nods. Brian softly patted her tears stricken cheeks with his handkerchief. Pushing away some stray hair off her face, Brian mustered a smile, “There you go. Good as— hold on—”

Brian felt that her temperature is way hotter than normal. “Clare,” he started slowly. “Tell me… you’re not feeling well... are you?”

Clare hesitated for a second, but nodded weakly. “I already told Mum that I’m feeling sick when I arrived, but she said I still have to make an appearance because it’s my party so…”

‘ _Yeah! A prostitute on a child’s party? Give me a break!’_

“Have you eaten?”

“…No. I don’t have any appetite. I had a glass of _cocktail_ , though. Mum allowed me.”

Sighing as he close his eyes, Brian internally told himself to not quickly judge and jump into conclusion. So he set aside his rage towards the adults’s irresponsibility for now. _Especially_ on Mrs. Taylor’s part.

“Tell you what, I’ll call one of the maids now so they can attend you, and you can rest. I don’t mind reading you a book to help you relax.”

Clare’s eyes flicked back to the window, deciding.

“But…are you not going to join the party outside? Just like what the _other_ grown-ups do?” she asked, sounding really surprised with Brian’s offer. “You’ll be bored by staying with the sick me, Mr. Brian.”

Brian took both of her warm little hands with his. “A good book with a good cup of tea is never boring. A good company is considered a bonus.”

And just then, Clare rewarded Brian with a genuine smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**C** arefully watching from a safe distance, he followed Brian’s steps as he trailed his way to the garden’s Greenhouse.

The older boy’s long, dark curls turning reddish brown against the early afternoon sunlight. His both hands occupied with a hand trowel and watering can. The ribbon of his gardening apron dangles loosely around his skinny waist.

“Good day, Mr. Bennet!” Brian greeted the mansion’s gardener.

The gardener smiled,“Ah! Professor Brian! Lovely day to you, lad!”

Mr. Bennet offered Brian a cup of coffee. Though he politely declined, as he already had breakfast that morning.

“Such a nice warmth,” he watches as Brian tilts his head up with his eyes closed, letting the sunlight kiss his face; his gorgeous side-profile in full display. He imagined what it must’ve feels like, with his hands on Brian’s face. His knuckles against Brian’s high cheekbones...

“Indeed. How’s the little mistress?”

“Thankfully, she’s getting better now,” Brian starts watering the cabbage roses. He then attended the lilacs after.

“I’m very thankful that she finally found a tutor that she likes,” Mr. Bennet’s gray eyes on Brian, pure fondness. “You’re the very _first_ one whom she immediately liked.”

“Is that so?” a boyish sheepish smile spread on his face. “I’m happy.”

They proceed to have a small talk about the weather, Brian’s life and family in Feltham, and Mr. Bennet’s deceased wife and his children in Scotland.

“It’s always nice talking to you, young man,” says Mr. Bennet after, while Brian gathers the gardening tools he had used and tidies up. “So smart, and a great sense of humor.”

The crinkles of Brian eyes appeared, “No. Thank _you_ for allowing me to bother you every morning. I won’t be a pain though once Clare complete recovered.”

“Oi! Who’s bothering who?” Mr. Bennet waived his hand dismissively. “Please do visit me from time to time. This old man is in dire of company. Take the little mistress with you, if she likes.”

Brian nodded and said goodbye to the older gentleman.

He listens as Brian sings “ _Stand_ _By_ _Me_ ” to himself, as he is now walking back to the mansion’s backdoor. He wasn’t exactly surprised that Brian could carry a tune, just judging from his luscious speaking voice.  
The same voice that he would listen to, intently, as Brian reads a bedtime story for Clare. He thinks it’s funny, since Clare is too old for bedtime stories. But then Clare have Brian wrapped around her finger, at the same time, Brian obviously adored her. Just thinking about it, there’s a tiny part of his heart that makes him very jealous.

“Who’s there?” Brian inquired. The sound of dried leaves that had fallen from one of the many Amur maple trees crunching under his wooden clogs.

His eyes grew bigger when he realized that the older boy is already treading his way to his current hiding spot.

“Fuck!” he sharply whispered under his breath, quickly escaping to one of his many hideouts outside the mansion. Although, the sudden movement made him earn a cut on his left leg from a stray fallen tree branch on the ground. He prayed that it’s not bleeding too much.

Brian whipped his head back and forth, obviously still looking for him. And looking from where Brian is standing now, he was lucky enough that he was able to flee swiftly, now that they’re only ten steps away from each other.

“Brian! Briaaannn!”

It was Clare. Practically yelling on the top of her lungs, from her bedroom window, on the left wing of the second floor. “Over here!”

Just like him, she’s still wearing a nightdress. But hers is frilly and have lots of ribbons and laces.

“Clare, come back inside! You still have a cold,” Brian waved back, worriedly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Please! And hurry!” almost desperate, Clare begged. “Why are you in the garden anyway?”

Brian did not answer her. With a last look, it seems that Brian is still waiting for him to come out.

After a few minutes, to his relief, Brian finally gives up.

“Perhaps it’s just a rabbit,” clearly disappointed, Brian walks away.

 

  
~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

    “No, Brian! Her dress should be purple!” still in bed, Clare complained as she snatched the yellow crayon away from Brian’s right hand and shove the purple one.

“Right! Okay! Okay!” Brian softly laughed, as he starts shading one of Clare’s very own drawings with her color of choice. “I’m sorry.”

It was day four of what supposed to be Brian’s tutoring job, but this adorable student of his is still recovering from a flu.  
Mrs. Taylor allowed Clare to rest up until tomorrow, even though her temperature is already back to normal. She looks much better now that color on her face is back. Brian adored her adorable pinkish cherub cheeks whenever she smiles, fighting back the urge to pinch them.

Still, there they are, on Clare’s pink Princess canopy bed, lazying again with art materials scattered everywhere.  
Just like yesterday, Clare insisted Brian to eat breakfast with her again, and be a guest-of-honor of her tea-party afterwards.

Once she’s down with her morning nap, Brian can finally sneak out and revisits the advance lesson plans and agendas that he have for Clare. He have to teach her English, Math, Science, and History, 6 hours per day from Monday to Friday. She have a separate tutor for Art and Music after Brian, another tutor for French Language, and ballet class every Saturday morning till afternoon.

Tomorrow is a Friday —and still Clare’s sick day, so it means that she’s already a week behind her lessons.

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his notebook, Brian heard scuttling noises on the other side of his door.

‘ _There_ _we_ _go_ _again_ , _huh_?’ rolling his eyes, Brian knew at this point that he is being watched by someone. And he have an _idea_ who it is, but he does not want to jump into conclusions as of yet.

What annoys him though, is this person hiding his things and moving it on another place in his room. Other than that, this person also cheekily changed the placing his bookmark on his book — C. S Lewis’ ‘ _Perelandra_ ’ — that he’s currently reading.  
Just this morning, before he went to the garden, he noticed that all of his pens and markers that were arranged neatly on a metal holder on his desk were missing. When he searched for it, Brian found half of it on the bottom drawer of his desk. Some were under his pillows and sheets. And the last ones were hidden inside his wardrobe, under his neatly folded undergarments.

Yes, it was quite harmless. But it doesn’t make it less annoying. And irritating.

Instead of entertaining the growing annoyance, Brian takes his guitar from its case. The red oak color of it shines against the early afternoon sunlight, just like a newly waxed floor. He has been practicing Hendrix’s “ _Castle_ _made_ _of_ _sand_ ” by ear, and so far, he’s hearing some progress. He sat down on his bed, back resting against the headboard with a pillow.

Half-heartedly listening to himself play, he notices that the sound on the other side of his door wont stop. Couldn’t take it any longer, off the bed he went and slowly crept up and pressed his ear against the door. He could hear hushed voices talking. In a swift move, he twist the doorknob and opens it.

With the maid’s aghast face almost white-as-sheet, Brian almost let out a frightened yelp. It took him a minute to realize that it was Jade. One of the mansion’s youngest maids.

“Good Lord! You scared me,” Brian placed a hand on his chest, his heart strumming.

Jade’s mouth opens, but no voice comes out. She slowly averts her eyes on the empty hallway, still looking fearful. Brian curiously poked out his head, and stared at the same direction and found nobody, except for a huge painting of Mrs. Taylor.

“Y..You…”

“What is it, Miss Jade? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No! I- I was... I was…”

Brian didn’t say anything. He waited for her to collect herself.

After letting out a calming breath, she says, “You have a phone call downstairs, Mr. Brian. The man said his name is ‘Freddie Darling’. He said he needs to talk to you.”

“Freddie, you said?” Brian clarified, raising his brow.

“Yes,” Jade confirmed.

‘ _Freddie_? _On_   _the phone_? _How on earth did he know the Taylor’s home phone number?_ ’

Closing his bedroom door, Brian followed her on the living room where the telephone is.

“Hello?”

“Brian Harold May, my dearest friend,” Freddie’s familiar voice filled his head. Brian could easily picture him grinning right now.

“Since when did you changed your last name from ‘Bulsara’ to ‘Darling’?” Brian greeted back, smile playing on his lips.

“Just now,” Freddie answered, sounding sarcastic. “When your maid misunderstood me—twice— when I said ‘ _It’s_ _Freddie_ , _darling_ ’. Don’t have the patience to correct her again. Or else, I’m gonna yell at the poor thing.”

Brian felt bad for Jade, but couldn’t help not to laugh. “How did you get the number of the house, and why are you calling?”

“Well, the lovely Professor Lovell dropped by at the stall yesterday,” there’s a sound of coins clinking on Freddie’s background. “He picked up his wife’s new dresses from Mary’s collection— oh! they were _fabulous_ , dear! You should’ve seen the one in black with studs on them. Our dear Mary—”

“Freddie…” Brian had to stop him, before Freddie goes into the dresses littlest details. Each of them.

“Oh! Alright!” Freddie clucked his tongue. “So he dropped by, I politely asked if I can ask a number to get a hold of you. He gave me Mr. Edward White’s—the assistant?— number.”

“It’s Mr. Edmund Wyatt. But close. Go on.”

“Anyway, I’ve introduced myself _professionally_ , and he gave me the house’s number after making him sure that I’m not selling stuff, nor a scammer or whatsoever. And here we are now, talking,” Freddie explained.

“Alright,” Brian nodded, though obviously Freddie does not see him. “And the reason of your call?”

“Should there be an actual _reason_ just to call my bestfriend?” Freddie whined dramatically. “I just _missed_ you, darling.”

“Lies,” Brian disagreed flatly, rolling his eyes.

“Oh! You know me so well, dear,” Freddie lets out a laugh. “But seriously, Brian— Mary and I, _do_ miss you and your grumpy presence.”

“I’ve only been gone for a week, Fred,” Brian pointed out, ignoring the fact that he called him grumpy. He’s starting to think that Freddie is only calling because he wants to kill time. Their stall in Kensington Market is normally slow during Thursdays, especially in the morning and afternoon. “You might have a breakdown by the end of this month.”

“Please, Sir, take it easy on my poor heart.”

“Bugger off,” Brian said jokingly.

“Anyway, how’s Cornwall?” changing into a much serious topic, Freddie asked.

“It’s really nice here,” Brian sinks on the velvet loveseat near him.

“Should be, dear. You’re staying in a mansion for God sake.”

“And my student is an absolute angel.”

“Is it boy, or a girl?”

“A little girl,” Brian answered, eyes wandering absently around the living-room’s lavish interior. “Her name’s Clare.”

“What is she like?”

“Really beautiful. Like a real-life porcelain French doll,” Brian caught himself smiling, as he describes her. Speaking of Clare, she should be waking up around this hour.

“Hmmmnn…” Freddie hums, thoughtful. “Any older, adult sister that might be available for a good shag?”

“FREDDIE!”

Like an evil witch, Freddie cackled in return. “I’m just _kidding_ , dear.”

Brian hopes and pray that no one is recording their conversation right now. Count on Freddie to say the most inappropriate things, especially when he’s on a good mood.

“Alright! I’m hanging up, Freddie,” Brian said, making sure that his friend can hear that he’s immediately loosing his patience.

“—Wait, Brian. I still have something important to say, dear.”

“Make sure, it’s really important,” he warned.

There was silence. Brian thought that then line got disconnected. But then he heard Freddie sighed.

“Brian?”

“Yes? I’m listening, Fred.”

Another sigh.

“You alright there, mate?”

“Brian,” Freddie’s voice is now laced with sadness, starting to worry Brian. “I’m gonna have a child…”

“W-What?”

“…and you’re the father.”

Right. There goes the last straw of Brian’s patience.

“Don’t ever call again, Freddie Bulsara!” with a clear scowl on his face, Brian hanged up. Almost wanting to slam the receiver on it’s cradle, as he still manage to catch the sound of Freddie’s loud annoying laughter.  
He thinks he also heard Mary’s faint giggle, but perhaps it’s a costumer or one of Freddie’s many female friends that occasionally still flirts with him. Even though he’s now exclusively seeing and living with Mary despite with his strict (Parsi) parents’ disapproval.

It’s one of the many things that Brian couldn’t do: he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing his parents. Just the thought of it makes his intestines hurt.

Finally placing the phone receiver back to its cradle, Brian shut his eyes. “Such a pain.”

Sensing the watching eyes again, he straightens himself. Now he wonders: how _long_  does he have to play this game?

 

  
~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

  
      Walking hand-in-hand with Clare, they spotted Mrs. Taylor already seated on one of the chairs as they approached the dining table that lunch time.

“You two looked inseparable,” chin resting on her laced fingers, beaming. The ray of sunshine coming from the bow window makes it looks like she have a halo above her head. “I’m getting jealous.”

Smiling at her, Brian pulled out a chair for Clare, then took the seat next to her.

“That’s because I’m gonna marry Brian once I’m old enough,” Clare told her mother, face dead serious.

That statement made them both burst into laughter, making Clare frown.  
“What’s so funny?”

“Well, Miss Clare Meddows Taylor,” catching her breath, Mrs. Taylor stops herself from making a snorting sound. “Before start thinking of marriage, finish your studies first. You haven’t even started your lessons with Brian yet, this silly child.”

“We’ll start on Monday,” Clare pointed out factly.

“How about tomorrow then? You’re feeling better now, right?” Brian asked her jokingly.

Pouting, Clare turned to him while her brows knotted. “But, Mum said that I’m still on sick day tomorrow.”

“Of course, of course,” Brian chuckled. “If that’s your wish, _ma_ _petite_ _princesse_.”

“ _Mercí_ _monsieur_ ,” Clare looks pleased, taking the table napkin and spreads on her lap. “ _Je suis_ _heureuse_.”

The maids starts serving the food: Greek chopped salad with grilled pita, tuna white pasta, smoked salmon, and pink lemonade. Being a vegetarian, Brian is absolutely thankful that they granted his request to have at least one dish that have vegetable for him. What he didn’t expect though, is that he’ll be able to eat high-quality vegetarian food every single day. Just to think not just a week ago, he’s been trying to survive with fish fingers and canned mushroom soup.

Clare turned her head towards the foyer. “Is he not going to join us, Mum?”

Mrs. Taylor stopped slicing the salmon on her plate, “ _Non_ , sweetheart. Mr. Edmund is out of town right now. He won’t be joining us for lunch and supper.”

“But,” Clare puts down her fork. “I wasn’t talking about him. I am talking about R—”

“Brian, mind passing me the salad please?” Mrs. Taylor asked, cutting whatever Clare is supposed to say. But he noticed that her eyes are fixated on Clare instead.

“I haven’t talked to him for three days…” mumbling, Clare whimpered.

“Here you go, Madame.”

“How about we go shopping tomorrow, Clare?” Mrs. Taylor says after a few bites. “There’s a newly opened boutique of Mrs. Harris’. I’ve seen some of their clothes already, and I know that you’ll like them.”

Clare did not respond, and continue eating quietly.

Brian is chewing on his second pita when Mrs. Taylor speaks again. He could now feel the tension that is slowly building up.

“You know, we can also have a pamper day, Clare. Remember you told me that you want to have your haircut last week over the phone?”

Still no reply from Clare. She just sat there, cooly drinking her lemonade. Pretending she didn’t hear the offer from her mother, not even looking at her.

Mrs. Taylor chews on her lower lip, looking really annoyed now, but kept the saccharine on her voice. “Clare, _cheri_? _Qu’ est ce que vous pensez_? It’ll be fun.”

“Clare,” Brian decided to finally speak up, touching her elbow lightly. “It’ll be nice to have a day off with your Mum, now that you’re feeling better. Once your lessons properly starts, you wouldn’t be able to go out that much.”

Sighing, Clare twirled the pasta on her fork. She looked at him, then to her mother. “I’ll only go if Brian will be joining us tomorrow.”

“But, sweetie, it’s _our_ day tomorrow,” says Mrs. Taylor. “And Brian is your tutor, not your Nanny.”

“I appreciate that you want me to go,” Brian agreed. “But she’s right. It’s going to be your Mother and Daughter date. I don’t want to be a bother.”

Mrs. Taylor flashed him a grateful smile. But the smile quickly went away, when Clare decided, “Then I’ll be fine here in the house. Thank you for the food. I’m full.”

Clare then pushed her chair back. Left the table without another word.

Brian looked at Clare’s half-eaten food. His eyes carefully shifted towards Mrs. Taylor. She also had stopped eating.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Taylor. I’ll try to talk to her—”

“No. I’ll talk to her, Brian,” Mrs. Taylor shakes her head, pained expression written all over her face. Gnawing on her lower lip again, she picks up her fork again and resume eating.

At that moment, Brian actually lost his appetite. Softly, Mrs. Taylor starts tearing up.

“Madame…” Brian felt his heart being squeezed, feeling sorry for the mansion’s mistress.

Mrs. Taylor quickly stood up from her seat and flee from the dining area as if it’s on fire.

Torn between letting her to be alone, or following her, Brian decided to choose the latter and followed his instinct.

He found Mrs. Taylor inside the study room on the second floor. She didn’t refused when he console her. Instead, she clings to him like an abandoned child. Brian just let Mrs. Taylor cry her eyes out. He didn’t know how long she weeped, but he knows that it must’ve been quite a while, as his legs starts to feel numb from standing.

Once she’s quite calm, Brian serves her a glass of water. “Feeling better?”

Mrs. Taylor nodded, eyes puffy and watery. “Thank you.”

Brian sat down on the seat beside her. Waiting for her to compose herself.

After a long period of silence, Mrs. Taylor stood up from her seat and took something from the drawer.  
“Mind if I smoke, Brian?” she asked, a pack of red Marlboro and lighter on her hand.

Brian hates the smell of cigarettes, mainly growing up with a father who is a chainsmoker.

“It’s fine,” lying, Brian shrugged. He watches as she opened one of the windows, letting the fresh cold air in.

“How do you find your stay here so far, Brian?” Mrs. Taylor asked, after taking the first drag. “I am praying that I won’t see you packing tomorrow, or the next day.”

Brian smiled at her assuringly, “You’ve been so gracious from the start, Madame. There’s no such thing as a perfect family, so I’m not expecting too much.”

Mrs. Taylor takes another drag, thinking. “But you have a tight-knit relationship with your parents, right? You’re a perfect poster for a model child.”

“Well, it doesn’t mean that we don’t fight,” Brian explained. “There are times when doors will be slammed. Passive-aggressive conversations, and week-long cold and silent treatment.”

“Oh…I see…” licking her lips, Mrs. Taylor consciously taps on her arm. She then let out a nervous sniff.  
“You know, it’s so hard to be a single-mother. Especially when your own parents are not present growing up. They’re so busy with their jobs, creating the Hickman empire.”

Brian didn’t say anything, but he made sure that she knows he’s listening to her attentively. Though, he searched his brain the Hickman last name, as it rings a bell. Brian then realized that she’s referring to one of England’s largest printing companies.

“I was only nineteen when I married Michael. In my heart he’s my first love,” she continued. “During the first years of our marriage, it was a struggle— we were going broke. My parents disowned me after my marriage, since middle-class man Michael Meddows Taylor is not their choice.”

“So...Michael and I eloped, held a civil wedding. But of course, my parents couldn’t bear the thought of a shabby ceremony. So they throw us an extravagant party, even though we’re already married,” Mrs. Taylor shakes her head, smiling quite bitterly as she recalled the memory. “Then as a wedding gift, they gave us this place and a small business of our own.”

She then went on about the following failed businesses after another, and the point where they have multiple debts. And the worst, when they’re about to sell the mansion and the land.

“I was pregnant with our first born that time.”

 _Bingo_.

Brian eyes flicked, a pleased smile slowly crept up his lips. Thankfully, the mansion’s mistress is too absorbed with her story to even notice.

“Miraculously, Michael managed to close a multi-million shipping deal before I gave birth,” Mrs. Taylor absently raked her blonde hair with her fingers. “Then, my clothing and cosmetics business also grew at the same time —here and abroad— getting us back to our feet. Seven years later, we had Clare. And here we are now, flourished ever since.”

“But unfortunately, Mr. Taylor passed away. Three years ago?” Brian asked. Though, it was briefly mentioned on one of Mr. Edmund’s letters.

“Yeah,” Mrs. Taylor takes another stick. “On a car crash. While his cheating ass was on his way to his mistress’ house. I don’t have a courage to tell it to my children. They loved their father so much.”

“Oh…” awkwardly, Brian couldn’t find any smart response. “I’m sorry.”

“Silly boy, _why_ are you apologizing? I already forgave him,” Mrs. Taylor rolled her eyes, smiling. She blows some smoke rings. “Only if my children would forgive me too.”

The smile on her lips faltered. She turned her back against Brian, and faced the open window. Quietly, she sobs again.

“Brian…”

“Yes, Madame?” automatically he stood up from his seat.

A tear still rolling on her left cheek when she faced him,“Thank you for listening to me. I feel a lot better now that I’m able to cry out some of this contained sadness in me.”

“Thank you for trusting me with your story,” Brian told her. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Mrs. Taylor wipes her tears, smiling gratefully at him, then she said, “Goodness! My makeup is already a mess!”

 

  
~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

    Brian found Clare on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, laying on her stomach, busy reading his Lewis’ book.

“Ah! I didn’t know I have a surprise visitor,” smiling, Brian called her attention, leaving the door wide open.

Startled, Clare looked up. “Brian! Where have you been?”

“I talked to your mother,” he also sat down on the floor, his back resting on the side of the bed.

“Oh,” sounding disinterested, Clare returned her focus back to the book.

“Hey,” Brian softly caressed her long ringlets. “Your Mum really wants to have a date with you. She was really sad and lonely.”

“I don’t care,” Clare grumbled. “I _bet_ she cried. So it looks like she’s the victim.”

Brian heard himself sighing. All this family talk is actually exhausting.

Suddenly, an idea pops into his mind.

“How about this: if you go out with your Mum tomorrow, then I’m gonna ask her permission to take you out for a date on Sunday.”

Clare eyed him, doubtful. “Will you? And just the two of _us_ , right?”

“Err…I’ll try…” unsure, Brian scratched the back of his neck. He had forgotten that Clare developed a cute and innocent pre-teen crush on him.

Brian thought that Clare will refuse, but instead, she excitedly left his room with a big smile on her face.

“Deal! I’m gonna tell Mum,” Clare said before dashing. “You can’t take that back anymore!”

Brian smiled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. He picked up his book and put it on his lap.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Mr. May.”

Frozen on the spot, Brian felt a cold shiver down his spine when he heard an unfamiliar voice across his bedroom’s doorway.

Just like the first time, the mysterious person is wearing with an oversize white nightshirt and is barefooted. Brian noticed the fresh cut on the person’s left leg.

When he looked up, he met the intimidating icy-cold gaze. A dark smirk on the person’s pink-bow lips. With his delicate feminine features, Brian couldn’t blame himself for mistaking him as Clare, the first time he had seen him.

“I’m doing alright, Mr. Roger Taylor,” Brian was satisfied that he managed to say the words without stuttering, even though he could feel his heart thumping like an out-of-control needle on a sewing machine. “How are you?”

“How did you know my name?” the expression on Roger’s face darkens. “You’re secretly spying on me, are you?”

Feeling that he already have the upper hand, Brian dragged himself off the floor. “No. I am not. I’m here to be your sister’s tutor. But I believe that you’ve been doing the same to me, on the first few days I came here.”

Roger did not deny it, and continue studying him.

Brian did the same. They stare at each other for a couple of minutes. The tension is so high, it’s almost palpable.

Then he walks toward the younger boy. He almost cracked a nervous smile when he noticed that Roger took a small step back.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Brian took something from his trouser’s pocket. He saw how Roger’s eyes widen worriedly, when he saw the small golden locket on his hand.

“How—?”

“You dropped it on the garden this morning. I knew that someone was following me,” Brian explained calmly. “So I came back on the same hiding spot of yours, before lunch. And I found that on the ground.”

And that was the truth. Good thing Brian did not accidentally stepped on it though. Roger’s name was engraved on the back of the locket. A warm feeling filled Brian when he found inside a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Taylor; cradled in their arms was the new born Clare.

When Roger —who seems to be in a state of shock— didn’t respond, Brian took his hand and placed it securely on his cold palm.

“By the way, apologies if I mistook you as Clare.”

Those words seems to make Roger snaps back to reality. “Do I look like a fucking girl to you?”

“Well…” Brian could no longer suppress the smile he’s been holding back. “Yeah…”

Roger angrily snatched his hand back, a murderous look in his eyes. “Fucking asshole!”

Then scurried somewhere, leaving Brian all alone again.

“Nice to meet you too, mate,” feeling triumphant, Brian let out a laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

   **T** he second bar of Debussy’s ‘ _Claire_ _De_ _Lune’_ being played on the mansion’s grand piano grows louder, as Brian descends downstairs that Sunday morning.

“Play it a bit slower,” he heard Clare ordered. At the same time the keys starts to sound uneven. “No! It should be _lentando_ on this part! _Roger!_ ”

“It should be _largo_ , silly girl!” says Roger, laughing.

Brian stopped on the last step of the staircase.

Last night was the very first meal where Roger Taylor finally joined them. He saw the genuine happiness on Mrs. Taylor’s face when she saw her son approaching the dining table. She desperately held herself together, despite having happy tears brimming in her eyes. She quickly pushed her chair back and guided Roger to sit next to her, abruptly moving Mr. Edmund’s food. She couldn’t stop smiling as she eats. Meanwhile, Roger kept an impassive look on his face and quietly ate a small portion of dinner, while everyone was having conversation.  
Surprisingly, he didn’t join them again this morning for breakfast, much to the mistress’ dismay.

Letting out a Zen breath, Brian calmed himself down. Even though it looks like he’s the same height and frame as Freddie, there’s _something_ about Roger’s demeanor that is quite intimidating.

Facing their backs against Brian, he found the Taylor siblings sitting side-by-side by the piano, now playing the fifth bar, messily. Clare let out a shriek when Roger surprised her with a tickle attack on her left armpit. She burst out laughing, and tickles him back on his sides. Roger then kiddingly dangles her off the brown leathered piano bench while holding both of her shoulders. Clare’s head lolling back and her hair almost reaching the carpeted living room floor.

“No, Roger! Stop! I’m gonna fall!” Clare giggles uncontrollably, still trying to tickle her older brother back. “Stop— oh! Brian!”

“Hey,” Brian greeted them, lips stretched in a small smile.

Roger’s head snapped to Brian’s direction so quickly, that he drops the hold of Clare, making her really fall on her back on the floor while her butt is still stuck on the seat. Her foot loudly banged the piano keys. “Ow!”

“Oh! Shit!” smiling guiltily, Roger helps her to get up. “Sorry, Clare!”

“You alright?” Brian rushed to her side. He noticed that Roger sidestep to create a distance.

“You idiot!” sending him a dagger look as she straightens herself, Clare punched Roger on the arm. “That hurt.”

At the same time, Mrs. Taylor appeared from the foyer. “What was that noise?”

“Stupid Roger’s fault!” Clare answered, childishly sticking her tongue out. She then quickly ducked behind Brian’s back before Roger could even manage to capture her.

“Are you ready, Brian? Roger’s coming with us!”

“Oh…” awkwardly, Brian cautiously shift his eyes to Roger. He caught the younger boy staring back, before he can averts his eyes to his sister, making a silly face to her.

From the first time they’ve met, today is the first time that Brian saw Roger wearing normal clothes aside from that oversized white cotton nightshirt that past his legs, that makes him look like the mansion’s restless ghost.

Clad in a simple olive button-down shirt and dark skinny jeans, long blond hair sleek back in a ponytail, Brian still thinks that Roger cleans up pretty nicely. But then he would _still_ mistaken him for a girl. Of course, Brian kept the thought to himself. Especially, since he was rewarded with a swear and a killing glare from Roger the last time he voiced that out.

“Are you all ready?” dressed in a less formal suit than normal, Mr. Edmund shows up from the main door. Brian thinks he looks younger that way.

“Yes they are,” says Mrs. Taylor, smiling. Then she sauntered towards Clare and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. “Be a good girl, okay? Behave.”

Clare nodded, and linked her hand with Brian’s. “Yes, mother.”

Mrs. Taylor then enveloped Roger into a hug and kissed the top of his head. “Try to have fun, dear, alright?”

Roger only shrugged his shoulders, his eyes on his white trainers. Even though it’s obvious that Mrs. Taylor is waiting for a response, she let go of him after.

“The car’s here,” announced Mr. Edmund.

At the same time, Mrs. Taylor called him, “Brian, a word please.”

Before Clare could protest and drag Brian away, Roger shouted, “Race you to the car, little bitch!”

Clare gamely and automatically drops Brian’s hand, and chases her brother to the door.

“He’ll follow. It’ll be quick,” Mrs. Taylor told Mr. Edmund as he lingers by the doorway, waiting for Brian.

Once Mr. Edmund is outside, she softly pulled Brian into a hug. “Brian, dear…I know this is totally _not_ included on your job as Clare’s tutor, but I’m really hoping that you and Roger will be friends. That boy has been through too much —and I know I’m at fault— that’s why he’s been cold and difficult, but I hope you’ll be patient with him.”

“Brian, come on!” Clare yelled from outside the house. Then was followed by Roger’s, “Ugh! Don’t yell, Clare. It’s so bloody irritating! Can we go _now_?”

“No! We can’t yet, dummy! Brian’s still inside the house.”

“I’ll try my best,” halfheartedly, Brian promised. He’s now worried that the two are already growing impatient.

“Thank you, dear. You’re such a real sweetheart,” Mrs. Taylor looks so relieved, as she cups Brian’s face. “Roger’s a nice lad once you get to know him. I’m sure that the two of you will get along, once you get to know each other better. And—”

_BEEEEEEEPPPP!!_

The sudden angry car honk made Brian and Mrs. Taylor jump.

“Roger!” they heard Mr. Edmund reprimanded the person behind the sound.

“Why so crabby all of the sudden? You’ll age fast,” says Clare in a mocking tone. Then she cried, “Ow! Don’t pull my hair! _T’es_ _un_   _salaud!”_

“ _J’en_ _ai_ _plus_ _rien_ à _foutre_ , silly bitch!” Roger barks back.

“Children! Language!” clearly irritated, Mrs. Taylor called them out. Brian only knows basic French, but he have a feeling that the siblings had just exchanged some bad words to each other.

“He started it!” Clare complained.

“He started it!” Roger mimicked her in a much high-pitched voice.

“I really gotta go, Madame,” Brian said, already making his way out. Afraid that Roger will be more aggravated with the delay. Mrs. Taylor followed him right until the door, she waves them goodbye.

Brian saw that Roger immediately turned his face against the car’s backseat window, as he hops inside the Taylor’s Cadillac sedan De Ville.

“Stay safe! Have fun! _Á_ _tout_ _à_ _l'heure_!”

 

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

  
     After an hour and a half of constant bickering between Roger and Clare about whose turn to play the water handheld ring-toss game, Mr. Edmund who was seated in the passenger’s seat telling them to ‘ _Please_ , _tone_ _it_ _down_ ’ for the umpteenth time, and Brian failing to focus on the book he was reading (because of the noise of the two and Clare distracting him), they’ve finally reached the Drake Circus shopping centre in Plymouth.

It was a cloudy and chilly afternoon. Brian turned up the collar of his tweed black bomber jacket, as he waits for Roger and Clare put their own. Once they’re all ready, they followed Mr. Edmund inside the building.

Brian curiously looked around the many shops and restaurants, comparing it with Feltham’s High Street.

He felt Clare’s hand curled around his again. “So where are you going to take me?”

The thought of this day being his “date” with Clare had completely slipped off Brian’s mind. Especially, now that they have a new chaperone, who is now impatiently tapping on his foot.

“You can pick wherever you want to go, Clare,” Brian answered, hiding his cluelessness behind a sweet smile. Because in reality, he have no clue where to take her, as it’s his first time on the area. “You wanna go shopping?”

“Not really,” Clare shakes her head. “Mum already bought me lots of new clothes and stuff yesterday.”

“Right,” Brian agreed. “You wanna go to a record store?”

“Uh-uh,” Clare shakes her head again.

“How about going to the bookshop?”

Clare pouted, and gave him a disappointed look. At the same time, Roger snorted and rolled his eyes, “What a bore.”

 _Prick_.

“Well any good suggestions, Roger?” so much for being patient, Brian’s annoyance showed before he could stop himself.

Roger looked at him pointedly. “Don’t ask me. I’m not the one who asked to take her out.”

Clare’s observing eyes danced between them after a few beats. “ _Why_ are you boys fighting?”

“Sorry,” embarrased, Brian apologized for his behavior while Roger just lazily yawned.

“How about we watch a movie?” Brian made another attempt, and is now practically crossing his fingers mentally.

He blames his lack of social skills for these type of things. Just like him, his ex-girlfriend, Christine, adored library and music record dates. They cannot really go shopping and rarely goes to movies. Not that they don’t want to, it’s just that they don’t have the money to spend in the first place.

“ _Ugh!_ _That’s_ _too_ _boring_ , _Brian_. _Poor_ _Chrissie_!” he recalled Freddie’s comment, high-pointed nose wrinkled in disgust. “ _Even_ _my_ _own_ _grandparents_ _have_ _more_ _action_ _than_ _that_.”

Till this day, Brian regrets that he told Freddie what they do on their dates. In addition to that _nightmare_ , he knew that he had dug his grave when he accidentally spilled _some_ of their bedroom activities to Freddie, one very drunken evening after his final exams.

Brian must’ve spaced out for a while when he felt Clare shaking their intertwined hands impatiently.  
“Hello? Brian? Which movie are we seeing?”

Still no idea which movies are available, he suggests, “Why don’t we check out the movie theater?”

Mr. Edmund cleared his throat behind him. “Well, you two watch your movie. Brian, here’s the money. Meet us at Trumper’s once you’re done.”

“You’ll _finally_ gonna cut your hair?” wide-eyed, Clare turned to her brother. “What a waste. They grew prettily.”

“Well you just cut your precious big curls, right?” looking at her sister from picking a dry cuticle, Roger shrugged. “I don’t wanna look like a girl, as _some_ people might mistaken me as you.”

Brian eyed him guiltily. Roger raised his brow at him saucily.

“Shall we, Clare?” he asked, before the silent tension becomes obvious. They split up after that.

They ended up watching a re-run of ‘ _Sound_   _Of Music_ ’, even though they’ve both watched it already. Brian felt a huge relief when he saw that Clare was happily singing along, and smiling all throughout the film.

“Brian, I wanna have some ice cream,” Clare told him, as he’s disregarding their used paper cups and almost empty popcorn bag on the nearest bin.

“Um, how about later for dessert? We’ll have our lunch in thirty minutes or so.”

Clare raised both of her shoulders. “Mmmkay...”

Brian smiled, and takes her hand again. “Your new haircut really suits you.”

“Thanks,” consciously, Clare pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I wonder what type of haircut Roger will be having.”

“Has your brother always have long hair?” Brian asked curiously, as Clare starts to lead him the way to the said salon.

Clare thinks for a moment before answering. “Not really. He and dad used to go to Trumper’s together every three months to have grooming. Roger loved hanging out with him. Dad would also take him to car racing as well.”

“I see,” said Brian.

He imagines how Roger must’ve looked like during those happy moments with Mr. Taylor; he must’ve been in pure bliss. Because Brian also cherishes those alone time with his father, Harold. Unlike Brian, his Dad doesn’t talk that much. He also rarely shows affection just like Mr. Bulsara, Freddie’s father. But Mr. May dotes on Brian in his on special way. He didn’t particularly supported Brian’s decision to do music during weekends, but Brian knew how much time and effort his Dad had _slaved_ just to built his very own guitar.

“I remember —when Dad was still alive— he and Roger would help each other to fix the car instead of sending it to the shop,” Clare continued, her eyes drifting somewhere far. “They used the Rolls-Royce to pick you up when you first came here, right?”

“Yeah. Was that your Dad’s?”

“Nope,” Clare fixed the white beaded collar of her maroon one-piece dress. “It’s Roger’s.”

“Oh…”

“Dad bought it for Roger’s 17th birthday and as a Secondary School graduation present,” Clare continue narrating. “Roger really liked that car.”

“And what did he give you for your birthday that year?” taking the escalator together, Brian changed the topic. Afraid that Clare might notice that he’s been trying to know more about her older brother.

“He flew me to America and took me to Disneyland,” bragging, Clare beamed at him. “Then I had the most extravagant party among all of my classmates!”

“Of course,” Brian chuckled, watching as Clare animatedly flaps her arms.

“How about you, Brian?” asks Clare. “What did you have for your birthday this year?”

“Nothing yet,” Brian smiled. “My birthday’s this coming July. The 19th to be exact.”

Clare’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. “Roger’s birth month is _also_ in July! His birth date though is on the 26th. He’ll turn 20 this year.”

Brian found himself mentally shaking his head. It seems that no matter how he try to change the topic, it keeps on coming back to Roger.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

     They finally reached Trumper’s after a couple of minutes of walking. Just from the outside, Brian knew that this is _not_ the type of salon that he’ll ever find himself to.

They found Roger peacefully sound asleep on one of the salon chairs. A white towel wrapped around his head, while his relaxed body clad in a white robe.

He and Clare settles on the salon’s white plush couch. Brian admired the salon’s elegant design.

“Would you like to order a service, Brian?” eyelids dropping, Mr. Edmund asked while getting a shoulder massage.

“Uhh…no. Thank you,” Brian politely declined, nervously eyeing the prices on the services that was plastered on the salon’s wall. Even though he thinks that he _might_ actually need a haircut, he could hear his wallet wailing. Ten quid for a haircut? Really. No. Thank you.

“How about a hair cut, _monsieur_ , huh?” a hairdresser with a slight Italian accent, suddenly appeared behind him. “Iz getting a bit… _poofy_.”

“I like your curls,” says Clare, staring at his head too focused that she’s almost cross-eyed. “But yeah, it’s really getting long now.”

“Don’t worry, Brian,” Mr. Edmund looks like he had read his thoughts. “It’s _fine_.”

The hairdresser then clapped his hands, rings clashing against each other. “Just a trim for this lad.”

“Really, I don’t…”

“Go, Brian,” Clare shooed him, getting cozy on the couch. A magazine on her hand. “We all gonna get our hair done.”

Doesn’t want to argue anymore, he just followed what he was told, and followed the assistant to get his hair done. Instead of getting relaxed, Brian just felt awkward and tensed. To his relief though, the hairdresser knows what he was doing.

“Thank you,” Brian stared back at his reflection, amazed. For the first time in his life, someone cut his wild mop of curls right. It was now shorter, but it does frame his face nicer than any shorter cut he had.

“Looks much better now, yeah? More handsome. More youthful.”

He nodded, blushing shyly. Then he returned back to the couch.

Clare looked at him, wide-eye, and smiling. “Wow! You look great.”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

Brian did a double take when he realized that it was Roger who was sitting beside Clare.

His freshly blow-dried wavy hair is now shoulder-length, and they gave him fringe. He had unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, showing his collar bones and a peek of smooth chest. He could also see the chain of the gold locket.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

When Brian blinked, Roger was smirking at him. Clearly embarrassed, Brian cleared his throat, and looks away.

“I really like your new haircut, too, Rog,” Clare complimented her brother, scooting over him to caress his hair. “It’s like your _old_ haircut. You look like a prince.”

“Really?” Roger turned, and looked at his little sister lovingly.

Clare giggles as she nodded. She then wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a fat kiss on his cheek.

“Ugh!” Roger jokingly wrinkled his nose. Though seconds later, he starts tickling her again while showering her head with kisses.

“Oh look! They’re friends again,” Mr. Edmund said quietly to Brian, voice flat. “Hope they will stay like that till we get home.”

“Are they always fighting?”

“Sometimes,” says Mr. Edmund. “Though, most of the time they’re normally loving and friendly towards each other.”

Then he turned to call the two for lunch.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

     Roger rested his head against the headboard, really not feeling well. Slowly regretting the fact that he just had _three_ tall glasses of root beer during lunch, despite getting warned multiple times by Mr. Edmund and Clare. Brian just keep on giving him silent worried looks, as Roger wolfs down on his lamb steak.

At the same time, Roger couldn’t also stop himself from sneakily stealing a glance of the older boy seated across him. There’s an air of elegance and class that Brian naturally possess that is not easy to ignore. And on the top of that… Brian’s _quite_ a looker. Yeah, ‘quite’ is the right word. As much as Roger hated to admit, Brian’s new do compliments his face than before. It makes him more dreamy. He’s sure his mother will surely shower Brian with endless praises once they get home.

“You okay, Roger?” Clare touched his arm.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he lied while he starts to feel queasy, as their chauffeur starts the car’s engine. He heard Mr. Edmund telling them that he still have to ran some errands, so they all be going home without him.

“You wanna play the game?” Clare asked him, handing him back the water game some moments later, as they pass Tideford’s village. Roger weakly shakes his head, suppressing the bitter pin-ball size lump on his throat.

Slightly stretching his legs for more room, he rests his hand over his hurting stomach.

‘ _Oh_ _god!_ ’ he felt himself mentally winced. His eyes found Brian who is absorbed with another novel of Lewis’, pink lips set into a straight line. Just looking at his tranquil form makes him feel a bit better. Roger must’ve been staring for quite a while that Brian sensed it. He suddenky turned sideways, and meet his eyes.

Brian’s light forest eyes looks like amber against the late afternoon sunlight. “Are you okay there, Roger?”

Instead of answering him, Roger stubbornly turned his back against him and Clare. He jolts when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Roger, you look pale. What’s wrong?”

“You okay, Roggie?” Clare made a mistake of lightly patting his back, making him wanna puke more.

“Fuck off, please!?” beads of sweat starts to appear on his temple, Roger bleated. Shaking their hands off while clutching his stomach. “I’m fine!”

“No, Roger. You’re not fine,” Brian argued, his voice even. There was a silent gasp. “Look! Your back is all sweaty!”

Then he heard Brian order, “Pull over, please.”

“No, please don’t…”

The car stopped abruptly, and parked on a leeway. Roger almost gagged. He heard the car door opened. When he looked up, a tensed looking Brian was already looming above him.

Feeling so self-conscious, Roger covered his mouth and avoided his eyes. “Please, let’s just go home so I can rest properly.”

“Are you feeling nauseous, Roger?” he felt Clare shifted, and hovers above him.

“No, Clare. Don’t do that,” said Brian. “Can you stand? You can hurl—”

Roger didn’t let Brian finish what he was about to say. He dashed out of the car, and ended up vomiting on the other side of the road.

“I knew it,” Brian muttered, gently patting Roger’s back.

Roger wasn’t sure if the shiver he’s feeling against his spine is because he was not feeling well, or the fact that it is his body’s reaction to the touch.

  
“Clare, can you give me the medicine pack that I kept in your purse?” Brian asked.

“You packed medicines?” Roger heard Clare asked, surprised. “Oh! Yeah! Here it is.”

Roger felt a slight displeasure when Brian’s hand left his back for a second.

“Better?” voice gentle, Brian offering him a bottle of water, and the said medicine.  
  
Nodding as he bites the insides of his cheek, Roger looks at him through his watery eyes.

“Do you have a handkerchief to wipe your mouth?”

“No…” he answered feebly.

Brian produced one from the pocket of his black pants. “Here.”

Roger knew his heart skipped a beat when their fingers touched. Even his ears feel hot.

After blotting his eyes and mouth, Brian made sure that he guided him back to the car. Clare already occupied his seat, making him sit in-between her and Brian.

‘ _God! He’s_ _so close!’_ Roger shuts his eyes, the smell of Brian’s light cologne filling his nasal passages.

He felt Clare took his left hand, and starts tracing circle, heart, and flowers. A couple of minutes later, the medicine starts to kick in, and he starts to feel drowsy. 

No longer in-control of his body movements, Roger’s blond head starts lolling against Brian’s right shoulder. To his surprise, it seems that Brian does not mind. And since he does not mind, Roger just let himself sleep.

“Wake up, Roger. We’re home,” he was awoken by Clare, softly tapping his arm as she whispers. “Wake up.”

Roger confusedly looked up to his sister with half-shut lids, found his head on her lap. He gets up slowly, and blankly stares at the mansion’s wide open main door.

When Brian appeared at the doorway, he automatically straightened on the seat.

“Hope you’re feeling better now,” Brian smiled at him, so gently, that it sends a stab on his chest.

“Yeah...”

“Is Mum inside?” Clare opened the door, and steps out of the car.

“Yes. She’s waiting upstairs.”

Roger watches Clare as she joins Brian, intertwines her hand with his once more. Just as Clare is about to walk inside the house, dragging her tutor again, leaving alone by himself, he heard Brian asking him: “Are you coming, Roger?”

“Yeah…Be there in a sec,” Roger almost did not recognize his voice.

Later that evening, he allowed his mother to dote on him as if he’s five again. And to be honest, he missed _those_ days. But more importantly, he misses his father. _So much_.

Blinking back the tears, Roger takes his precious golden locket that is on his neck, and open it. He almost had a mini heart-attack when he lost it last Thursday, it must have slipped off his neck as he didn’t notice that the clasp broke. Still thankful that Brian found it, and returned it to him. Should it have fallen on the wrong hands, Roger is sure that he’ll never forgive himself.

Feeling very guilty, Roger felt like a total prat as he realized that he haven’t properly thanked Brian for that, and for taking care of him a while ago. Despite being a total prick to him, Brian still treats him with genuine kindness.

 _‘Yeah, Roger, you’re an ass,’_  he thinks to himself.

The sound of someone knocking on his bedroom door interrupted him from his thoughts. Thinking that it’s his mother checking up on him again, he answers in a bit annoyed tone, “It’s open, Mum.”

Stunned, Roger felt his mouth went dry when the door opened, and saw Brian walks in instead. Alone.

  
“Um… hi?”

“Hey,” there goes that breathtaking smile again. “Mrs. Taylor asked me to bring you your medicine.”

“Oh,” Roger watches as Brian makes a beeline towards his bed. He took the pills from the other boy’s hand. “She should’ve ordered one of the maids to do so.”

“Actually…” Brian scratched the back of his neck, an awkward smile on his lips. “I _volunteered_ to bring them to you.”

Roger chokes on the water he was drinking upon hearing what Brian just said. _What_?! And _why?!_

“Hey, you okay?” worriedly, Brian asked.

“I’m fine,” Roger assures him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He could feel his face heating up. “Thank you, by the way.”

He heard Brian sighed in relief. “It’s okay. I’m glad that you feel better now.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Then there’s silence. Long silence. Roger wants to open up a topic, but his lips stayed sealed. It looks like Brian tried to do the same thing, but nervous to do so.

“I…um, I gotta go. Have some nice rest, Roger,” Brian awkwardly raised a hand, as if to say goodbye.

When Brian is about to reach the door, he heard himself dare to speak again, “Thank you again, Brian. Goodnight.”

Pulling-up short, the expression on Brian’s face was a mixture of fascination and amusement. Then he so softly laughed.

“What is it, Brian?” infected with his smile, Roger looks at him, puzzled.

Hazel eyes twinkling, Brian looks at him, “Nothing. It’s just...you just said it… my _name_. For the first time I came here.”

Roger knows that his heart is about to pop-out from his chest that moment. “Oh...Really now?”

“Yeah,” Brian let out another breathless chuckle, opening the door. “Anyway, goodnight, Roger.”

“Goodnight,” Roger knows that he’s grinning like a Cheshire cat right now. “ _Brian_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAHHHHH! BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY WAS SO AMAZING! (ToT)  
> I saw it four times —twice in IMAX and twice in regular 2D— but I.still.want.more! (Please send help! I’m still planning to see it again lol)
> 
> But seriously, please do see it on the big screen if you haven’t seen it yet ♥  
> (Ignore the fucking critics. They know nothing)
> 
> Anyway, THANK YOU so much for your wonderful comments and the kudos! I’m trying to write as much as I can, even though my head’s still swimming with BoRhap itself and forever rewatching the trailers and the casts interviews (I love ‘em all). Thank you again! Have a great day! 
> 
> XOXO


	4. Chapter 4

**“I** gotta say I am really impressed, Brian.”

Roger observes his mother’s facial expression, peeping, from the crack of the adjoining door to her office. In her hands were the result of all the first exams that Clare just had taken this afternoon, two weeks later, after her tutoring formally started.

Brian, who was seated comfortably on the couch as he sips some tea, smiled at her politely. Today, he’s wearing a white tunic Oxford shirt paired with dark dress pants. “She was hoping to get a perfect score on each of them though, Madame. I told her that getting a 47 over 50 questions is _definitely_ impressive.”

“It is,” Mrs. Taylor agreed, both brows raising. “And to think that she hated Science and Math. These scores are a leap from the grades she used to get.” Then she goes, “You didn’t go easy on her, didn’t you?”

“No, Madame,” Brian tittered, shaking his head. “In fact, I even gave her trick questions from lessons we have not discussed yet, for her Math exam. If you’ll notice on the last questions: the formula is given with a sample on how it was solved, then she just have to figure out how it was solved that way. To my own personal delight, she did manage to solve it, alone.”

Clearly gladden on what she just heard, Mrs.Taylor’s smile widens. “You know...you’re really making me feel that I want to adopt you and keep you here, Brian.”

“Ah! Madame, there you go again with your gracious compliments,”even though he laughed at it, Roger could feel Brian’s slight uneasiness.

After his father’s death, Roger witnessed how his mother had developed this sick fascination of making men squirm with her flirtation skills. How she _exceptionally_ loves it when young adult men, who obviously was smitten with her, would stutter and fumbles in return to her flirting compliments.

Brian on the other hand doesn’t looks like he’s totally attracted to her. Although, he just have this innocence and uptightness, that he thinks his mother finds entertaining whenever she successfully breaks him.

‘ _But_ _aren’t_ _you_ _the_ _same? You little son of a bitch_ ,’ Roger’s subconscious accused him, slyly.  
  
Placing the teacup on the table, Roger examined how Brian unconsciously rotates the silver school ring on his right pinkie as he listens to his Mother about the unfortunate experiences they have with his and Clare’s previous private tutors.

“There was this Russian older gentleman who came all the way from Italy, I think —he was recommended to Michael by a family friend— who used to tutor Roger when he was eight. Little did we know that he hits his students if they did not perfect their exams! And my God! I lost it when I saw the bruises on my boy’s arms.”

“That was horrible,” Brian was genuinely aghast. Roger appreciated it.

“Michael was so angry, he threatened him with a gun.”

“ _Jesus_!” color draining from his face, Brian drops the teaspoon.

Now that it was mentioned, Roger do vaguely remember an afternoon where he and Clare —who was just a toddler that time— was playing in their playroom on the third floor of the house. He was supposed to be having a lesson from the same tutor that day. The playroom’s door was locked and their Governesses are watching him like hawks. Roger had never seen his father so mad. He wasn’t sure who and why he’s in rage. When he peered on the window, he saw his Dad jabbed his tutor before he was taken away by a police car. And after that, he never saw that tutor again.

“Roger, why are you here?”

Clare’s innocent doe eyes are watching him from the doorway. Caught red-handed, Roger almost dropped the champagne glass he was holding.

“Nothing… just—”

“You’re spying on Brian again, aren’t you?” smugly, Clare said with tone of accusation.

“No,” Roger lying smoothly through his teeth. “Why would I do that, Clare?”

Still not convinced, Clare raised her eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

Roger closed the adjoining door without a sound. He then sauntered towards his sister. At the same time, Clare walks inside the room, and flops herself on the nearest couch.

“I was suppose to tell Mum something. Didn’t realize that he was in there.”

Clare rolled her eyes, smiling as she takes her own champagne glass on the table. “Normally, you’d use the other door instead.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only drink with Mum’s permission?” in a casual voice, Roger changed the topic.

“Does that mean you’re gonna tell on me?” after taking a sip, Clare watches him over the rim.

“I’ll think about it,” Roger raised his shoulder, putting his used half empty glass back on the table. “Don’t drink too much.”

Turning his back, he walks towards the door.

“He’s a real good person, you know. Brian. Stop doubting him anymore,” says Clare as he reaches for the doorknob. “He’s _different_ from the others.”

“You’re only saying that because you fancy him, Clare,” Roger pointed, tone flat.

“I’m telling you that because it’s the truth,” she sounded serious. “Look, if you wanna be friends with Brian, stop spying on him like a creep—and don’t be a prick. I’m sure he’ll will appreciate that.”

“Whatever…” Roger thinks that it’s embarrassing that couldn’t find a quick and intelligent response to what Clare just told him.

He heard Clare sighed. “We’ll have a picnic later at four. You can join us if you like.”

Roger felt his stomach did backflips with the invitation. He would really want to join them rather than be bored to death in his room. Also, the weather is bright and sunny. A perfect day for a picnic in their garden.  
He could picture himself lazily sprawled on the blanket, welcoming the sun’s warm heat on his pale skin. Brian’s eyes and hair turning into a lighter color, a contented smile on his pink lips. His long, delicate fingers reaching to caress Roger’s face…

“No, Clare,” but the words came out differently. “Thank you, though.”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

  
      Brian squints his eyes, temporarily blinded by the sun’s glow and the soft wind. He had finally fixed the large turquoise picnic blanket secured in it’s place, after almost ten minutes of struggling, under one of the many ancient Oak trees that surrounds the Taylor’s garden. He then proceeds to arrange the colorful throw pillows that Clare sneakily brought out, even though Mrs. Taylor told her no.

“So beautiful,” enamored, Brian thinks to himself as he lets his eyes worship the garden’s picturesqueness.

He knew that the garden was huge. But he never expect that it’s this _gargantuan_. Since he only goes up until the Greenhouse, he didn’t know that if he’ll walk a bit further, he’ll see a much more breathtaking sights. On his way there, he also spotted a wishing well, a treehouse, and another fountain. The bushes and shrubs are adorned with many colorful plants and flowers. It’s a shame that Brian can only name a few: daisies, baby’s breath, lilacs, yarrow, jasmine and magnolia.

If only he’s been blessed with drawing and painting skills like Freddie, he’ll paint the whole garden. But he wasn’t. All he have right now is a Martin D-18 acoustic guitar that he didn’t know where on earth Clare manage to get. He promised to sing her a song as a reward for the job well done.

 

 _“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me._  
_You’ve stolen my love, and now you leave me.”_

 

Strumming the guitar strings, Brian tried to rake his brain as he try to remember the lyrics of Freddie’s song. He felt a spiritual connection to it, the moment he heard Freddie beautifully sang it, along with his antique grand piano one late afternoon. Brian asked him to sing the whole song the next time he heard it again, but Freddie said, _“ Haven’t even finished the whole damn thing yet, darling. I’ll be glad to perform the whole thing to you once it’s done.”_ Brian wasn’t sure if Freddie was only joking when he added, _“But you have to pay me, of course.”_

Trying to search the words from his memory, Brian’s heart was suddenly flooded with sadness. Happy times with Chrissie flashing back before his eyes...

 

_“Back... bring it back._

_Please bring it back home to me_

_Because you don’t know what it means to me...”_

 

“E-hem,” someone cleared their throat. When Brian turn sideways, Roger was stepping inside the blanket. A bottle of Dom Perignon on one hand, and the other is an oversized wicker picnic basket.  
“Where should I put these?”

“Anywhere,” Brian motioned his hand, a bit embarrassed. Wondering if Roger heard him singing.

Roger placed the bottle and the basket in the centre of the blanket.

Putting down the guitar beside him, Brian rubbed his palms together, thinking of a topic. But before he could even manage open his mouth, Roger spoke, “That song’s nice. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that on the radio. You wrote that?”

“No,” Brian was slightly disappointed when he saw a newly lit cigarette that is now placed between Roger’s lips. “Freddie —one of my friends in Feltham— wrote it.”

“Oh…” Roger exhaled the smoke. “Feltham… what is it like?”

Brian stretched his arms and legs. “Nothing exciting. Quite plain.”

“Sweet,” Roger deadpanned but smiling. Brian heard himself let out an involuntary snort. Then he noticed that Roger grabbed a pillow and lie down on the blanket.

The wind blows once more, making Brian push some stray curls away from his face. When he opened his eyes, Roger was looking at him. “What is it?”

“I was looking at the clouds above your head,” says Roger, pointing the sky. “They’re pretty.”

Brian tilted his head up. The azure sky looks like a calm ocean above them. “Indeed,” he agreed.

“That guitar. Who gave it to you?” Roger asked after a few minutes of silence, taking another lazy puff.

“Um, Clare,” Brian scratched his head. “If it’s yours, sorry if we didn’t ask for permission.”

“Nah. It’s okay,” Roger shakes his head. “I’m actually surprised that it’s still in tune after years of not being used.”

Brian turned to him, eyes wide. “But Roger, _it’s_ a D-18.”

“I know,” Roger licks his lips, grinning. “I switched to drums four or five years ago. I do have other guitars that I rarely use inside the music room.”

‘ _Of_   _course! They have a fucking music room!’_  Brian almost kicks himself for not realizing that earlier.

The younger boy then douse the remaining of the cigarette against the tree’s trunk and flicks it somewhere. Then Brian watches him gracefully flips on his stomach while his fixes the pillow to be underneath his chest. He doesn’t know why, but Brian suddenly felt a sensual feeling prickling his skin, that he have to tear his gaze away.

“I can show it to you,” Brian thinks he’s only imagining the seductive smile that is currently plastered on Roger’s face.

“Sorry?”

“The music room, Brian,” Roger rests the side of his head on his hand. “I can show it to you if you want.”

Brian thinks it’s foolish of him, to think that his heart skipped a beat, as he studies Roger’s expression to see if he’s just taking a piss on him or not. Sure, the guy _is_ gorgeous. Like a real life Prince, as Clare compliments him. But to think that he is starting to develop a physical attraction to Roger is fucking preposterous!

“Sure. I’m sure I would love it,” smiling broadly, Brian tried to hide the fact that he’s perturbed with what he was just thinking. “That’s very nice of you, Roger. Thank you.”

“Good,” said Roger, a complacent smile on his face. “So aside from guitars, what instruments do you play?”

“Piano. I’m an average player though. And ukulele—”

“I used to play ukulele too!” clearly thrilled, Roger excitedly interrupted him.

“Mind if we join you?”

They both found Mrs. Taylor approaching them with a picture perfect smile, holding a video camera. Trailing behind her is Clare holding a what looks like a Scrabble board game. If only Brian’s a bit observant that moment, he should’ve seen the disappointed frown on Roger’s face.

“You have the guitar, Brian?” Clare excitedly asked, removing her shoes. Smiling, Brian pats the guitar in response.

“Why does he have Roger’s guitar with him?” Mrs. Taylor curiously asked as she passed the bottle of Dom Perignon to Roger to open it, while Clare hands everyone their glasses.

“He promised me a song if I passed all my exams,” there’s a smug look on Clare’s face. Then she turned to her brother, “Sorry. I took it without your permission. I love you.”

Roger reached out to pinch her cheek. “Love you more.”

“Ah! That’s a nice trade,” Mrs. Taylor proposes a toast as everyone now have their own drink. “To my wonderful daughter Clare!”

“To Clare,” Brian and Roger said in unison. When he clinks his glasses with Roger’s and met each others eyes, Brian felt that his stomach summersaulted.

Mrs. Taylor brought out the foods inside the basket: cheese balls, mini sandwiches, and fresh avocado dip with tomatoes and corn chips. “The cake should be ready in a few minutes.”

They talked, or mostly they interviewed Brian to know more about him. They ate the food and play Scrabble. And true to what Mrs. Taylor said, the strawberry cake was served on a perfect timing.

“Oh no, Roger! You’re loosing,” Clare looked up to her brother from the notebook she was holding, as she volunteered to be the game’s scorer.

“Be quiet, Clare,” Roger sounded annoyed as he studies his remaining tiles. “I’m concentrating here.”

Brian is now seated next to him. He just noticed how long Roger’s eyelashes are. The other boy’s eau de toilette keeps on filling his nasal passages whenever he shifts, or whenever the wind blows. He watches Roger’s long, slender fingers, as he picks up the tiles and placed it on the board. “There.”

“Um, Roger,” brows knotted, Brian heard himself speak as he stared at the word for good five seconds. “ _Phlegm_ , starts with a ‘P’, not ‘F’…”

“Oh…” Roger stared at it too, just realizing it. “Oh! Oh! _Yeah_! Fuck!”

Mrs. Taylor and Clare burst into giggles while Brian bites his lower lip, stopping himself from laughing.

“Okay! Okay! Sorry,” slightly blushing, Roger rolled his eyes while smiling as he removes the tiles and replaced it with the word ‘peg’.

“That’s three… six… eighteen,” Clare counted and wrote the total.

As he expected, Brian ended up winning. Followed by Mrs. Taylor who was only three points short.

“Okay, folks! It’s time for Brian’s performance,” Clare clapped her hands. 

“Alright, Brian!” grinning, Roger went back on lying on his stomach after taking the board game away.

“We’re ready,” Mrs. Taylor turned on the video camera.

Clearing his throat, Brian shake off the nerves as it starts to kick in. “Well, um, this is a Sinatra’s song…”

He decided to pick ‘ _Summer_ _Wind_ ’ to sing for them.

Clare’s eyes were close; her head on Roger’s back while her stretched legs on the top of her mother’s lap. Mrs. Taylor filming the three of them, a contented delicate smile on her face. Roger looks like he’s lost in his own thoughts as he watches Brian’s skillful fingers.

After the song, the three of them clapped appreciatively.

“ _Tu_ _es_ _fantastique_!” says Mrs. Taylor, beaming.

“Encore! Encore!” Clare pleaded, tapping on Brian’s leg.

“Thank you!” Brian let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “And I only promised one song, Clare.”

There’s a twinkle on Clare’s eyes as it looks like she just had an idea. “Then… Roger, you sing us a song!”

“Oh! That would be amazing, sweetie!” Mrs. Taylor agreed.

Roger jerked his hips, making Clare’s head bounce off his back. “Fuck, no.”

But Clare was persistent. And so is Mrs. Taylor.

“Pretty please, Roggie! I’ll love you forever,” eyes batting innocently. She then hugged her brother’s back. “Pleaseee!”

“Ugh! Fine,” finally convinced, Roger sat up with a scowl on his face. Clare let out a victorious squeal.  
His gaze met Brian’s and asked,“Do you know how to play Elvis’ ‘ _Can’t_ _help_ _falling_ _in_ _love_ ’?”

Brian nodded way too earnestly than he wants to be. Roger let out a snort.

Clare crawled to her mother and sat on her lap. Mrs. Taylor wrapped an arm around her waist while the other hand is still holding the camera.

Brian starts playing the guitar again. He heard Roger inhaled.

 

_“Wise men say only fools rush in,_

_But I can’t help falling in love with you.”_

 

Biting on his lower lip consciously, Brian tried not to think too much or else it’ll register on his face. Roger’s voice was soft yet husky. Totally different from the usual sound of Freddie’s power-vocals whom he normally accompany during gigs. Brian’s head starts to swim. It’s too much.

 

 _“Darling, so it goes_  
_Some things are meant to be_ ”

 

Mrs. Taylor sniffed, and wipes the tear on her cheek. Clare tilts her head and pats her mother’s head. Roger finished singing. They both earned kisses on the top of their heads.

“That was good,” in a small shy voice, Brian complimented Roger, smiling tightly.

Perhaps he didn’t hear him, Roger turned to him. His face too close. “What? Uh… thanks, mate. You’re great too.”

Just then, a rushing Mr. Edmund appeared, “Madame, a phone call. From your father.”

  
Mrs. Taylor blanches, she softly moved Clare on the side. “Why don’t you help Roger and Brian tidy up? Just have to talk to Grandpa.”

Mr. Edmund offered to help her with her shoes. After that, they watched Mrs. Taylor followed by Mr. Edmund, marches back to the house.

Brian cleared his throat. “Um, I can clean up myself. Are you not going to talk to your grandfather?”

Clare turned to Roger, eyes questioning as she reached out to touch his hand. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” Roger was no longer smiling as he jutted his chin towards the house. Clare said a silent ‘Thank you’ then she takes the guitar with her. “See you later, Brian.”

Brian was very curious to know why Roger does not want to talk to his own grandfather.

Now that he’s on it, there are lots of things that Brian wants to know more about the family he’s currently working for. One, why is Roger not in school? He should be in his second year of College by now. Two, he overheard the maids gossiping that they’re surprised that Roger now regularly comes out from his bedroom after a long time of confinement. Speaking of Roger’s bedroom, Brian finds it odd when he found out that his own bedroom was twice the size of Roger’s room. It wasn’t that small, but to think that he’s the mansion’s young master, he should not be sleeping on a shoebox.  
Three, how come there’s not even a single photo of Roger around the house. It’s just mostly Mr. and Mrs. Taylor and Clare. And the list goes on.

“Fuck!” he heard Roger mutter a cuss. Slumping back on the blanket, looking suddenly exhausted as he fishes out another stick of cigarette. “Are you sure you don’t want a smoke, Brian?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Never?”

“Never tried it. Don’t wanna try it.”

“Pussy,” scowling, Roger’s mood obviously turned sour.

Brian snickered, not really taking the offense seriously.

“Brian?” Roger called him as he starts tidying up in silence.

“Hm?”

“If I ask you to push me on that well, so I’ll drown… will you do it?”

Thinking that Roger was just kidding, Brian says as he chuckled, “Yeah, _sure_. How much are you gonna pay me though?”

But Roger didn’t laugh. He actually sighed instead. There’s some distant sadness in his eyes.

“Oh… sorry,” the used saucers clanks against the silver utensils as he places it inside the basket. “Thought you’re —it’s not a good joke, Roger.”

“And who said I’m joking?”

Brian held his breath. He didn’t expect that their conversation will turn this dark. “Roger…”

He rested his blond head against the trunk of the tree. “I should’ve come with Dad _that_ night. I would’ve not been stuck here with all of these bullshits.”

Brian wants to ask what Roger meant. But he feels that he might sound territorial— or worst nosy. Rather asking him questions, Brian thinks it’s better to have Roger talk instead. It looks like he really needs a listening ear right now. So after wiping the rim of two champagne glasses with a clean napkin, and reopening the bottle, he sat back down next to Roger. Although quite hesitant at first, Roger accepted the drink.

Just like back when he was sick, Brian saw the fragile look on Roger’s eyes. There’s a tiny part of him that would want him to give Roger a hug.

With the most warmest smile he could muster, Brian clinks his glass with Roger’s. “I’m here to listen.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola, guys! Thank you so much again for the Kudos and feedbacks ❤️  
> Been having issues when replying to feedbacks though! The page keeps on crashing! (Am I the only one experiencing this?)
> 
>  
> 
> Please keep on supporting the BoRhap movie, the cast and of course, Queen.  
> Hope you all have a great day!
> 
> xoxo
> 
>  
> 
> =======
> 
> “wItH mY hAndS oN youR gReAse guN, tHaT’s veRy sUbTle iSn’T iT?”  
> “IT’S A METAPHOR, BRIAN!”


	5. Chapter 5

    

          **A** listless Brian found himself staring blankly at his blue bedroom’s ceiling that same evening. His head feels light after four glasses of Perignon. The perfect weather is now replaced with light rain shower that taps on his windows.

_“Last year… I tried ending my life by cutting myself.”_

Shutting his eyes, he recalled Roger’s sad tired face. His cerulean eyes brimming with tears and the tip of his nose turning bright red. Brian knew he stopped breathing for a couple of seconds as his mind went blank. The younger boy let out an odd breathless laugh, after seeing Brian’s stunned expression. Roger then looked away, and starts picking on a non-existent loose thread of his jeans. The silver rings he have on his right pointer finger and ring finger glistening.

“I still can’t accept that Dad will no longer come back,” Roger pauses to down his drink. “Mum sent Clare away to Boarding School. Mum shamelessly seeing countless lovers —and flaunting them—right in front of my face. Grandpops pressuring me to start acting as the heir of the business.”

“Roger, I’m sorry…”

The younger boy’s Adams apple bobbled as he swallowed. His voice almost inaudible,“No. Don’t be.”

“Clare and your mother said that you love your Dad so much,” Brian takes a couple of sips before speaking again. “And I truly believe that.”

Roger let out a sigh. He took the last hit of cigarette before throwing it again somewhere.  
“My grandfather have never found my father worthy of his only daughter. Even after all of these,” Roger gestured the mansion and the lush land that surrounds it. “And he hated me for not stepping up and helping my mother with the business after my Dad’s death.”

“But... you’re still a teenager, Roger,” Brian thinks he’ll never understand the life of the rich. And how businessmen thinks. Trying to figure out why Mr. Hickman never found all of Mr. Taylor’s achievement worth of his praise.

“Gotta start ‘em young…” Roger told him, a bitter smile on his face. “At least, that’s what Grandpops said.”

Brian just nodded. Lost for words.

“Refill please,” Roger slightly shakes his now empty glass to him. Brian filled his glass, half full.

“How about you, Mr. May?” Roger eyed him from his peripheral vision. “How is life treating you so far?”

“Mr. May, dinner’s ready,” Mr. Tony, the mansion’s butler, announced in a clear voice. The call cutting Brian from reminiscing the scene that just happened this afternoon. Brian wants to refuse on having dinner as he’s still quite full from the picnic foods they ate, but he knows it’ll be rude. So he slowly sat up from the bed, opened the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Tony,” Brian told him with a rehearsed smile. “I’ll follow. Just have to freshen up.”

The elder gentleman then hums in response and leave him. Brian shut the door with a sigh. After washing his face, he was surprised just seeing Clare, sitting alone, in one of the chairs on the dining area.

“Clare,” he called her attention from the comic book she’s currently reading. Her eyes twinkled the moment she saw Brian.

“Hi, Brian,” although her voice have less enthusiasm than he expected.

“Why are you alone?” Brian looks around, waiting for Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Edmund, and Roger.

Clare followed his gaze. “Mum had to fly to Paris tonight. She said it’s for an emergency business trip.”

“Oh…”

“Roger said he’s already full and sleepy,” Clare picks a grape from the fruits tray and pops it into her mouth. “He said he shouldn’t be bothered.”

Brian just nodded, and took the seat beside her. Since he isn’t particularly hungry himself, he just serves himself a glass of lemon water while Clare returns her focus on the comic book. Brian reads over her shoulder for a bit, but drawings makes him a little dizzy. Even though there’s sweet potato fries and macaroni pasta served, Brian reaches for a red fat strawberry and takes a bite. The sweet and tanginess taste of the fruit rolls over his tongue.  
Resting his head against the dining chair’s high back, he listens to the soft sound of the rain. Clearing his head for a bit, Brian close his eyes, wishing that it isn’t raining so he can see the stars. Stargazing will always be his safe haven.

He felt Clare rests her head on his arm. She then reached out for Brian’s left hand and starts tracing random shapes on them. Brian remember seeing the same gesture she’s doing when Roger was sick in the car, a couple of weeks back. It seems that she got Mrs. Taylor’s touchiness.

“You alright, Clare?” Brian softly ran his free hand on her forehead and top of her head. Her temperature seems normal.

“I’m fine,” Clare shrugged as she now starts poking the cufflinks of Brian’s long-sleeve shirt. “Just lonely.”

Brian’s felt his heart dropped on the pit of his stomach.

Here they are, safe and sound inside a multimillion mansion, surrounded with nice and expensive things that money could offer, food on the table —not a single worry about money, or if they’ll survive tomorrow.

And yet, everything feels empty. And shallow.

Whenever Brian overhear his parents quietly discussing about money every paycheck in their bedroom, through their flat’s paper thin walls, he just want to be swallowed by the darkness and disappear. There are nights when Brian could hear his mum’s silent cries asking his father, “ _But shouldn’t they pay you more?”_ or _, “This isn’t enough, dear. Also, Brian needs extra allowance this month to buy school projects”,_ or sometimes _, “Should I make more of my knittings and offer to do laundry as well?”_

Money. Growing up, Brian thinks that if they’ll have more money, it’ll lessen his parents’ burden. But at the same time, his parents drilled into his head that he should never —ever— see money, as the answer to their problems. Instead, they raised him to be book and street smart, creative, and resourceful. That materialistic things fade, if you don’t know how to manage it.

Brian got all the love, support, and attention he could ask for. Things that Roger and Clare lacks.

Pressing his lips on Clare’s crown, he asked,“Would you want me to read you a bedtime story?”

Clare nodded. “Please. Thank you.”

After she was called, Jade then appeared from the kitchen’s foyer and followed them to Clare’s bedroom. While Jade is helping Clare to prepare for bedtime, Brian waited outside her bedroom.

He busies himself by going through the paintings of Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, on their wedding day on the second floor’s hallway of the mansion’s left wing. Meanwhile, Brian’s bedroom is on the farthest right on the same floor. With Mr. Taylor’s aspiring Hollywood actor-like good looks, bright green eyes, and charming dimpled smile, Brian couldn’t really blame the young Mrs. Taylor for falling in love, hard, with her late husband in such a young age.  
One of England’s eligible heiresses, eloping with a man with a little fortune and no means to the upper elite society.  
The more Brian stare at his portrait, the more he see Roger’s resemblance to him. Only Roger have softer features, that he and Clare both inherited from their mother.

“Come on in, Brian,” dressed in cotton pyjamas with printed unicorns and ice cream on them, Clare invites him in. Her hair braided into two.

Clare was already knocked out as Brian is about to turn to page twelve of Tolkien’s ‘ _On_ _Fairy_ _Story_ ’.  
The mansion’s little mistress’s arms locked around her teddy bear. She looks peaceful with her relaxed and steady breathing.

Brian turned to check his wrist watch and saw that it’s almost past eleven. Giving her a soft kiss on her forehead, Brian stood up from the chair.

“I miss you, Daddy…” she mumbles in her sleep. “ _Tu_ _me_ _manques_ _tellement_ …”

Keeping only the nightstand’s lamp turned on, Brian left her room with a heavy heart.

 

  
      The next day goes by and not a single sign of Roger. Worriedly, Brian asked Mr. Tony when they’re about to have supper, “Is he not joining us again, Sir?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. May,” always so formal, Mr. Tony shook his head. “Young master Roger opt to eat in his room.”

Once the butler’s gone, Brian turned to Clare who is busy scooping her spinach soufflé. “Is there something wrong?”

“Hmmn?” Clare looks at him innocently, then swoons over the taste. “It’s good. This one’s my favorite, really.”

“No, Clare. I meant Roger.”

“Oh…” Clare dabbed her mouth with a napkin. It looks like she try to recall things. “Nothing really. He sometimes get into _those_ moods— my brother’s pretty weird like that. So I just let him do what he wants. Or else we’ll fight.”

“I see,” Brian thinks he’s overthinking again. Clare sounded neutral just now. Perhaps, he shouldn’t be worrying too much. But he couldn’t stop himself. Especially now that he learned something new about Roger.

Clare then starts to tell him a story about a phone call that she got from her friend from Boarding School in Roedean. “How cool that our schools are just two hours away from each other?”

“Really cool,” Brian managed to answer, despite only half-listening to what Clare was just saying. He was actually more interested on picking out the potato salad that’s on his plate.

“And I wont be home on Friday night.”

“Okay,” almost absentmindedly, he nodded. “—Sorry, what?”

“I said I wont be home this Friday night,” Clare repeated. “My friend invited me for a sleepover.”

“Did you already ask for your mother’s permission?” Brian knew that Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Edmund will be back by Sunday afternoon.

“No,” a mischievous smile on her face. “No need for that.”

Brian puts down his fork. “Clare…”

“Kidding, Brian!” Clare rolled her eyes, grinning. “Of course, I did! And our Mums are friends with each other too.”

“Okay. If you say so,” Brian resumes eating.

After they finished with supper, they proceed on their normal evening routine: Clare prepping up for bedtime and bedtime story.

“Brian,” Clare’s eyelids already dropping, as she caresses Brian’s free hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Brian smiled at his student. Moments later, Clare finally fell asleep.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      It was Thursday midnight. Brian accidentally bumped into a maid carrying a tray of food as he climbs the mansion’s grand staircase. He was too preoccupied balancing his refractor telescope, books, and stereo camera on his arms.

“Oh fuck! I’m very sorry!” horrified, Brian apologizes as he stared at the spilled food and utensils everywhere. “I’m so so sorry!”

Gertrude, the maid who seems to be around his Mum’s age, swiftly placed the plate, bowl, glass, and utensils back on the silver tray.

“It’s okay, Sir Brian. Just be careful next time,” with a tiny hint of irritation, she didn’t even meet Brian’s eyes.

“I’m really very sorry,” Brian repeated guiltily, ready to place down his things. “Let me help you at least.”

“It’s okay, Mr. May,” he heard Mr. Tony’s voice on the end of the staircase. “It’s late. You may go to bed now.”

“But—”

“It’s okay, Sir Brian,” Gertrude assured him, lips set into a straight line.

“I’m sorry again,” Brian felt so bad as he knows that Gertrude will most likely will get a lecture. It wasn’t even her fault. “I’m sorry.”

Just as he’s about a few steps away from them, he heard the butler asked,“He still didn’t eat?”

“No, Sir,” Gertrude replied, flat.

“This is the second day, right?”

“Yes,” Gertrude confirmed, making Brian’s stomach whirl. “All he does is drink, drink, _drink_! His room looks and smells like a pig pen! He won’t let us in to clean.”

‘ _Roger!_ ’ Brian felt an immediate anxiety. Shuffling on his feet, he quickly place all of his Astronomy stuff on the floor of his bedroom. Which is unusual, as he would’ve rather check if food got into them, then put them back neatly on their place.

The faint sound of Beatles’ ‘Getting Better’ grew louder, as Brian makes his way to Roger’s bedroom on the third floor. Roger’s bedroom was located on the farthest left end. By the time he reaches the door, it sounds as if McCartney and Lennon are members of wailing cult, chanting ‘ _Better_ , _Better_ , _Better!_ ’

“Roger?” Brian pounded the door. A sound of glass shattering made him jump. “Roger, are you okay!?”

But it seems that Roger turned up the music more that Brian could feel the vibrations on the carpeted floor. “Roger! It’s Brian! Open the door, please!”

Another shattering sound. And a loud thud on the door.

“FUCK OFF!” Roger growled loud enough to wake the whole mansion.

“Roger, please! Open the door!” Brian pleaded, frantically twisting the door knob open. Though as he expected, it was locked. “What’s wrong?”

“Mr. May, what are you doing here?” Mr. Tony’s look’s impassive but his voice a bit stern. Jade was beside him. She quickly looked away when Brian’s eyes shifted to her.

“Roger? What’s wrong with him?” shaken, Brian asked the mansion’s butler.

Brian had never seen Mr. Tony throw him a steely glance. He got so scared that he froze on the spot.

“Mr. May, this has nothing to do with you,” said Mr. Tony dismissively. “We’ll handle the young master. Please go to bed.”

“I’m sorry,” said Brian, biting his lower lip as he looks away. “I was just really worried.”

“Goodnight, Mr. May,” Mr. Tony made that as a cue for Brian to leave.

And so he did.

 

       The next morning, Brian feels so heavy headed due to lack of sleep. He couldn’t even focus on the lessons that much, spacing out every now and then. Really embarrassed with his current mental state. Fortunately, Clare’s head was also not a hundred percent with him. She’s obviously too excited with the upcoming sleepover, and the fact that Mrs. Taylor allowed her to skip her ballet class tomorrow to go out with her friends the whole day.

“Wanna take some break?” Brian asked with a small uneasy smile. When in reality, _he’s_ the one who needs a break.

Clare stops writing and looks up to him from her History book. “You sure?”

Brian just nodded. Clare grinned,“Just going to call Katie. It’ll be quick.”

Then she dashed out the main library, keeping the door ajar.

Brian took his alone time to serve himself a cup of tea and open the window to get some fresh air. He spotted Mr. Bennet talking to Mr. Tony near the Greenhouse. The two gentlemen seems to be in a deep conversation. Thirty minutes later (break time should only be fifteen minutes), Clare comes back and sounded more energize. She squealed in delight when Brian ended the lesson thirty minutes earlier.

Friday dusk comes. Brian watches Clare as she steps inside the Roger Taylor’s Rolls-Royce.

“Have fun, Clare,” waving, Brian said while smiling. “And behave.”

“Yes, _mother_!” Clare said teasingly, rolling her eyes while beaming. “See you on Sunday, Brian!”

So off she went.

Brian run his fingers through his curls as one of the maids shut the main door, exhausted. He couldn’t stop thinking of Roger. He couldn’t bear to tell Clare. He doesn’t want her to worry, and spoil her excitement over the sleepover.

“What would you want for dinner, Sir Brian?” Jade asked as she trails him towards the staircase.

Brian pictures himself eating alone on that huge dining table; his appetite wither away. “Thank you, but I’m not really hungry.”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      The Beach Boys is currently blasting inside Roger’s bedroom when Brian tried to visit him again in the middle of the night. His eyes caught the untouched food that is on a silver tray that is placed near a ceramic vase.

Letting out a sigh, he knocks on the door. “Roger? Can we talk, mate?”

No response.

“Roger? Please?”

Still nothing.

 _Screw_ _it_!

Agitated and antsy at the same time, Brian forcefully twisted the doorknob and used his full force to slam his side to open the door. To his own surprise, the door was actually open that he almost made a face-plant on the carpeted floor if only he didn’t took a hold of the doorknob. He found himself kneeling on the floor.

With a bottle of liquor in his hand, he caught Roger drunkenly swaying on the top of his bed.

“Ahhh! It’s Briaaannn…!” wide-eyed, Roger slurred as he points at him with a grin. “The man that I was _waiting_ for!”

Shocked, it took a couple of seconds for Brian to take in the mess of a scene he’s looking at. And when everything sinks in, Brian felt that his heart just sank.

The room was absolutely trashed: some of the grommet top curtains were on the floor, the TV face down while its cord cut, food splattered everywhere, shattered glasses, cigarette butts, empty bottles of vodkas and wine…

“Roger,” Brian almost stumble when the pungent smell of the room hits him. “What in the world happened?”

“You have to guess…” Roger singsonged as he leaps off the bed, then carelessly walks barefoot towards Brian. Without a word, he hoisted Brian off the floor and shut the door behind him.

“Ugh!” repulsed, Brian covered his nose with his hand as he turns away. Roger badly smelled like cigarettes, alcohol, rotten food, and body odor. “When was the last time you bloody fucking showered?”

“I can’t remember,” Roger eyed him with a baleful smile, then takes a swig as he steps closer. “I’ll take one now…if you’ll join me.”

Brian shuts his eyes as he composes himself and thinks of a plan. He doesn’t know _this_ side of Roger. And that he have to be extremely careful. Brian quickly scanned the room for any harmful thing that Roger might used to hurt him or himself. The only thing he saw were the broken glasses and mirror.

“What dya’ lookin’ for, May?”

Brian gave Roger a glare before he walks toward the vinyl player and turn the volume down. The smug look is still plastered on Roger’s face as he languidly followed Brian from where he is standing.

The mansion’s young master just stood there and gawked at him, mutely, with unblinking dilated pupils. Brian wished he could figure out what’s running through Roger’s current drunken head. Brian felt exhausted, aggravated, confused, and worried at the same time.

In a swift calculated move, Brian snatched the bottle away from Roger’s hand.

“Oh… no… Brian,” Roger irritatedly moaned, watching him empty it on the nearest vase, and discards it on the corner of the room. “What have _you_ done?”

Running his fingers against his messy matted blond hair that obviously been unwashed for days, Roger checks the other bottles he have lying on the floor. Brian jolted when Roger crouched down and crawled on the floor. Then seconds later, he finally slovenly sprawled his body, face down, as if not seeing the shattered glass and mirrors. Just now, Brian thinks he’s looking at a victim of a crime scene.

“Why are you here?” he heard Roger groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to leave?... now that I told you my secret?”

“What?” Brian asked, puzzled. “I don’t understand, Roger.”

“I was listening to your conversation… with Freddie…that Freddie… _your_ Freddie…”

Brian recalled speaking to Freddie on the phone last Monday morning. But Brian mostly spoke to his mother as she drops by the stall, and borrowed their phone there, instead of using one of the phone booths. The conversation didn’t even last long as Clare’s lessons with him was about to start. Mrs. May just want to quickly check up on him, and to reminded him to take care of himself.

“Your mum has a nice voice…” Roger was cut off by a hiccup. “She wants you home now, yeah?”

Brian ignored the fact that Roger committed invasion of privacy. _Again_.

“My mother called because she wants to know how I’m doing, Roger—”

“But, Freddie said ‘ _Come_ _home_ _soon_ , _dahling_!’, cooing!” Roger snarled as he tried to do a bad mimic of Freddie’s voice. Brian might have find that funny in another time, but all he felt is the anger rising his chest. “And you fucking laughed and said ‘ _Yes_!’, you pair of fags!”

Roger obviously misunderstood what he and Freddie meant and over-analyzed the conversation. But Brian knew that there’s still _more_ behind this.

“Roger…” Brian tried to sound as calm as he can. Even though in his head, he had imagined that he already punched Roger five times. “Even though we’ve only known each other not too long ago and no matter how shitty you sometimes treat me, I’m not going to betray you.”

“I’ve heard those lines before…” Roger jeered. “Heard ‘em multiple times…”

“Roger, I didn’t tell anyone your secret. No one in my family even know you,” Brian explained. “Not even Freddie.”

“Freddie…Freddie…Freddie…” Roger mocked him. “ _Darling_ Freddie…oh he must be lovely…”

Clenching his jaw, Brian placed his hands on his hips. There’s a tiny voice on the back of his mind, egging him to just leave Roger there, and let him rot away. Reminding him that his job there is to be Clare’s tutor. Not Roger Taylor’s fucking babysitter!

But Brian did the total opposite. The moment that Roger starts sobbing, he quickly picked him up like a fragile item. 

“Please… please don’t leave me, Brian,” Roger begged, clinging on Brian as if his life depends on him. Fat, hot tears running down his face. “You’re the only one I can trust right now…”

And just like that, all of Brian’s cruel thoughts vanished.

“I’m not going anywhere, Roger,” softly caressing his warm cheek with his thumb, Brian firmly assured him. “Just please don’t this again.”

Slowly nodding his head as response, Brian took the chance to help Roger to stand to take him to the bathroom, and have him cleaned up. Because god! Roger really _needs_ to have a long bath right now.

“Where are we goin’?” Roger groaned when he thought that Brian will tuck him to bed.

“Bath,” getting dizzy with the smell, Brian really wants to cover his nose right now only if he’s not supporting Roger’s body.

“Mmmm… noo…” too weak to protest, Roger whimpered, burying his face against Brian’s chest. “I want to sleep, ‘rian… bed…”

Of course, Brian acted as if he didn't hear him. Opening the bathroom door, a disappointed frown immediately formed his face as he realized that it was also trashed as the bedroom. Brian let Roger sits down on the porcelain tiled floor of the bathroom, waiting for the water to warm up.

“Stay there,” Brian quickly dashed out after he starts filling the tub, which was surprisingly clean.

“W- Where… where are you going?” Roger can only watch him with his eyes, resting his head against the tiled walls. “Brian… don’t leave me!”

Shutting the bathroom door and placing a chair in front of it —so Roger couldn’t escape— Brian dialed Mr. Tony’s number. The butler picked up after the second ring.

“Yes, Mr. Roger?”

“Hello? Mr. Tony? It’s Brian. Can you send at least— ” hastily, Brian take another look of Roger’s room of disaster. “— five or six maids to clean up Roger’s bedroom. I know it’s late. But I need them now.”

“Bri…an!” Roger cried as he called him, feebly knocking the bathroom door. “You said… Brian!”

“Didn’t I tell you to not to—” Mr. Tony starts to lecture him. But Brian couldn’t really care less now.

“I know! I _know_ , Sir!” Brian nervously whirled around as Roger becomes suspiciously quiet. “I’ll take all the lecture later. I’m sorry! Just please help me now. Thank you!”

Slamming the receiver back to its cradle, Brian hurriedly came back to Roger. He involuntarily placed a hand on his chest as he found him dozing off.

“Hey! Wake up,” Brian shakes Roger’s shoulders. Now that their faces are close in a well lit room, Brian could see the dark circles under Roger’s eyes. Face ghostly white and lips chapped. He could feel someone pinching his heart.

“Huh?” Roger’s half-open eyelids staring into an abyss.

He helped Roger to place both of his arms around Brian’s neck while he holds him on his waist. He slowly guided him to the tub.

“Ooof!” Roger reacted to the water as half of his body made contact with it. His grip around Brian’s neck tightens, almost toppling over him. Even though he’s hurt, Brian still patiently removed the younger boy’s arms, and placed them securely on the edges of the tub.

“Take off your clothes, Roger,” Brian ordered, eyeing Roger’s white cotton nightshirt that is almost dirty white now because of the grime. Then he took the bottle of Peroxyl from the marbled sink.

“Can’t…” Roger complained as he dangles his head. “I can’t feel my…”

Brian let out a sigh. Pours a generous amount of mouthwash on the glass, “Fine. Then wash your filthy mouth first.”

“I dun wanna…”

Irritated, Brian kneeled down, pinched Roger’s nose forcing him to open his mouth. Then Brian clamped his hand over to make sure that Roger won’t spit it out quickly.

“Ten seconds!” Brian dodges Roger’s flailing arms. “Then you can spit it out.”

Roger gagged after Brian let go of him. He tried to hit Brian’s shoulder, but missed him. “That… bloody stings, you wanker!”

They were on that position when Mr. Tony walks in.

The color of the butler’s face drained when he saw a fully clothed Roger on the overflowing tub. His eyes trailed the towels that are scattered on the floor, along with some of bottle of shampoos and body wash. He opened his mouth to say something, but closes it again. Then he shut the bathroom door behind him. Brian heard new voices, female voices to be precise. Moments later, he could hear the sound of the room being cleaned up.

“Roger, lift your arms up,” Brian ordered again, unbuttoning the damn nightshirt. Perhaps, slowly regaining his senses, Roger pushed Brian’s hand away and takes off, apparently... his _only_ clothing. Brian looked away in horror, as he disregarded the soaked clothing. “Mate, Roger, you could’ve told me you’re _not_ wearing any underwear!”

“Surprise…” Roger smiled naughtily. Making Brian to give him a whack on the back of his head that he deserves. “Ow! Fuck!”

After almost emptying the shower gel into the water, Brian shoved the body sponge to Roger, and barked at him to start cleaning his body up. Then he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and starts working on Roger’s hair.

“Ahh… that feels nice, Brian,” Roger moaned dreamily, as Brian massages his scalp. “So good...”

Meanwhile, Brian awkwardly tried to avoid looking at Roger’s nakedness, and focus on his golden locket. But then he noticed that Roger’s only been lazily scrubbing around his crotch area. Brian then felt that the drunk blonde looked down to where his hands are resting, a fascinated sly smile now on his face. Before Roger could do what in the world he’s thinking on doing, Brian snatched both his hands away. But to his own dumb mistake, his fingers grazed Roger’s cock by accident.

He’s not even kidding when he whispers a warning against the shell of Roger’s wet ear, “Don’t even think of drunkenly jerking off in front of me, or else I’ll seriously drown you.”

Still very much intoxicated, Roger turned, and faced him with a sultry smile. Brian tried to ignore the sudden excitement that pools in his chest by continue shampooing the sides Roger’s head. Tentatively, Roger lifted his arm and brushes his knuckles dripping with soap, against Brian’s equally wet left cheekbone. Brian slowly drops his hands on his sides. The water coming from the shower faucet starts hitting Brian’s face and shoulders, washing away his logical thoughts down the drain.

Lost in Roger’s hypnotic eyes, Brian didn’t inch away when the boy in the tub slightly twists his body, exposing his smooth, baby pink buttocks.

Its Roger’s turn to whisper something to his ear, “Why jerk off if I can just have _you_?”

As if the time stops and goes slow motion, Brian watches as Roger leans closer and closer. The arms that were claimed to be incapable of moving, found their way around Brian’s. One hand even gently pushing the back of Brian’s head forward.

“So beautiful…” like a prayer, Roger’s eyes travels from Brian’s scared eyes to his trembling lips. His now wrinkly fingers, caressing the older boy’s cheek.  
  
They’re just an inch away from each other when something from the outside loudly shattered again, breaking the forbidden spell.

“Be careful, Jade!” Mr. Tony reprimanded the culprit.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

Roger groaned in frustration as he rests his forehead on Brian’s shoulder, not letting him go.

“Mr. Brian, are you done with Mr. Roger?” Mr. Tony knocked impatiently.

“We haven’t even started anything yet,” mumbling to himself, Roger sends the door a dagger look.

Snapping back to reality, Brian grabbed the handheld shower, almost slipping in the process. After rinsing Roger’s hair he handed him the shower, “Finish washing off. I’ll go get your clothes.”

When Brian passed by the bathroom’s huge mirror, he could feel his own cheeks burning. His heart feels it’s about to explode. Then he caught his own reflection: tense-looking and very guilty.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      The newly bathed and dressed Roger ended up sleeping on his sister’s pink canopy bed. Even though with the help of ten pairs of hands, the putrid smell of Roger’s bedroom just won’t go away even after they emptied two bottles of Pecksniff room spray.

Brian felt as if he ran a marathon when he finally reached his own bedroom. Tiredly, he picks up his Astronomy materials that he had left on the carpeted floor, wiped his telescope and camera, then placed them back neatly on their designated shelves.

He let himself fall on his back on the floor. Sleepy eyes found the wall clock, it says that it’s almost past three in the morning. No wonder he feels so exhausted.

As much as he wants to answer his body to just sleep, Brian couldn’t. His clothes are still drenched, especially his trousers, underwear, and socks. Also, some of that icky smell from Roger got transferred to him, much to his disgust that he wrinkles his nose. Taking a Herculean effort, Brian turned off the lights, except for one bed lamp, and let the beautiful moon illuminates his bedroom. He then make his way towards his bathroom, strips down his clothes, and takes a warm shower.

“ _So_ _beautiful_ …” Roger’s cerulean eyes looked so lustful, yet loving in his memory.

The fact that they’re about to kiss, gives him a delicious weird tingling sensation all over him that his own level-headed self would consider as taboo. Roger’s mouth smells like fresh mint, his lips softly brushing his ear along with warm breath. He knew he caught the sight of Roger’s gasp when his hand accidentally brushes against his stiff cock.

“Fuck!” Brian thinks his head must be totally clouded now, looking down to his own arousal. The water cascading from the shower faucet feels more warmer against his skin. Just as he’s about to stroke himself, submitting to temptation, he shakes his head. “No. _No!_  I shouldn’t do this.”

Embarrassed as he felt he just violated his own body, Brian steps out from the shower with his inconvenient erection, wrapping himself with a bath robe. After drying his hair with the hair dryer, he suits himself a pair of plain silk pyjamas.

The bed feel surprisingly extra warm as he dove under the blanket. Turning to his side, his arm searched for another pillow. But instead, Brian’s hand finds someone’s chest that clearly does not belong to him.

Letting out a shriek, Brian jumps off the bed, and raced to the switch to turn on the lights again. He then slowly approached his bed, lifts the duvet to see who is the person sleeping beside him.

Brian’s legs wobbled as he defeatedly gives in, that he ended up kneeling on the floor again. His head on the side of the bed, dizzy and overwhelmed with mixed emotions, burying his face on the sheets. This night is probably one of the longest excruciating nights of his life. His body practically begging for a good and peaceful sleep. Brian think that he might end up crying in frustration.

“What exactly am I gonna do with you?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clink! clink! <3*
> 
> How many times did I have to edit this chapter— I dunno? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve lost count! Apparently, this was the longest chapter so far (as per Microsoft Word). Why did I just added the Chapter Notes hours after I posted the chapter? I don't know either.
> 
> Sooo tag me as Brian! As lovely Poodledoo is my current mood right now (ToT) 
> 
> Anyways, I FINALLY figured out why the page keeps on crashing when I’m replying to the comments...It was those damn emojis! (¬､¬)
> 
> Thank you so much again for the Kudos and Feedbacks! xxxxx
> 
>  
> 
> ========
> 
> “nOT thE coFFEe MaChiNe!”


	6. Chapter 6

         

          **I** f waking up with a bad hangover is a bitch, then waking up with a bad hangover _and_ getting a slap on the face…is a total bitch of a nightmare on the face of the earth.

Groaning, Roger’s lids feels as if they’ve been glued together. His right cheek still slightly stinging. And his head feels like it weighs just like a fully ripe oversized watermelon.

Moving the hand off his face, he squints as he tries to adjust his already poor vision. The ceiling above him imitates the peaceful sky. The sound of birds chirping outside is just too perky for his liking. And when his gaze moves to the windows, the sunlight is already peeking through the ridiculously expensive creamy-white grommet top curtains, that his mother have imported from Spain a couple of years back.

“Mnnn?” brows furrowed, Roger stared at the long, delicate fingers, and neatly trimmed nails of the hand that had just slapped him. Roger couldn’t exactly remember that he asked for a courtesan last night—well, he couldn’t really remember what happened the past few days...so whatever! The point here is he got laid. Period.

Although, he didn’t like the fact that this courtesan is still fast asleep, buried under the duvet. Only showing her hand and the ends of her dark curls. Normally, part of the service, he would be awaken with an epic “good morning” blowy and that would definitely a mood booster.  
Much to his annoyance, this one even have the audacity of occupying the whole King-size bed, almost leaving Roger no space. Shivering, Roger turned to his side and pulled his nameless companion closer to get more warmth. Along with her warm soft lips, he could also feel her slow breathing on his clavicle.  
Not even bothering lifting the duvet, he let his hand lazily travel from her small back to squeeze her full ass.

 _Pyjamas_? Roger makes a face, as he’s expecting to touch the hem of a lacy nightgown. Anyway, he searched for her other hand and guides it to where his morning wood is, clearly asking for some TLC.

“May I have my morning suck, please?” so innocently, Roger uses her hand to give himself good, long rubs. Shutting his eyes, he allows himself to enjoy the delicious feeling. Still, it’s not enough.

Suddenly he felt sharp teeth; digging so deep on his neck that Roger jolted backwards, and hit the nightstand lamp above his head. “Hey! What the—”

With the duvet being tossed on the side angrily, Roger is sure that he starts praying to no-one, the moment he realized that the person with him on the bed is _no_ courtesan. Not even a woman to start with.

Roger heard himself scream in horror.

“How about you bloody suck my fist first? After I knocked all of your teeth, you fucking bastard?!” Brian’s narrowed eyes are screaming murder, after wiping the string of saliva off his mouth with the sleeve of his pyjama. “What the fuck do you _think_ you’re doing!?”

Dumbfounded, Roger is left frozen and unblinking. ‘ _No! This is not real! I’m still dreaming!_ ’

Brian sends him a pillow. Hitting him square on the face, hard, confirming that he _is_ definitely awake. The sensitive part of his neck that he got bitten on is also stinging and wet as his fingers touches it.

“B-Brian? I thought…” Roger’s words seems stuck on his dry throat.

“You thought ‘what’, Roger?!” Brian growled, eyes closed while rubbing his temples furiously, as if anticipating a headache. He looks quite haggard for someone who just woke up.

“W-Why are you in my room?”

Brian’s normal soft speaking voice sounded too loud and harsh. “That should be my question, Roger: why are you in _my_ room?”

Roger then stupidly remember that his bedroom ceiling’s color was ash, not sky blue (well, at least it used to be). And his Fender is not red. He doesn’t even own a telescope nor a stereo camera. He’s also clothed with his nightshirt and underwear.

Not getting any reply, Brian is shaking his head as he turned his back to him. Then he went back to bed, and cocooned himself under the duvet and blanket. Not really knowing what to do —or what to say even— Roger quietly scooted back next to Brian and gather himself by the knees, freezing.

“Brian… it’s cold…” teeth chattering and shoulders shaking, Roger told him. “Brian…”

Letting out a frustrated muffled groan, Brian answered,“The heater broke last night. Mr. Tony said that it should be fixed earlier this evening.”

“Can you at least light up the fireplace?” Roger asked, motioning its direction across the bed.

“And why would I?” poking his head out, Brian glared at him as he snapped. “And can you just _please_ go back to your own room? I’m trying to go back to sleep here.”

Brian’s so-early-in-the-day hostility really threw Roger off.

Jaw clenched as nasty anger rose from his chest, Roger stood up from the bed. Then starts jumping.  
It actually makes him feel more sick, but the sound of Brian’s groaning in pain is too great.

“Oh my God! Roger! Stop it!” Brian ordered angrily, still under the duvet. “You’re mad! Stop it!”

Still not satisfied, Roger positioned his legs between Brian’s body and mercilessly fought to remove the duvet. And when he succeeded, Roger throw it on the side of the bed, falling completely off the floor. Triumphant, he watches Brian under him, as he quickly curled into a ball the moment the coldness of the room also starts biting his skin.  
He was about to say something snarky about Brian’s rudeness towards him, when he felt two hands manacling his wrists. His vision turned 360 degrees and he’s back on the bed. The silk pillows under him felt so uncomfortable on his back and on both sides of his neck.

Fear slowly crept up when his eyes met Brian’s above him.

“Do you even have a slight idea on how much I would really want to hurt you now, huh, Roger Taylor?” Brian’s voice was low and deep. Like a predator, there’s not a sign of warmness on his sharp eyes.

Heart racing as he swallows nervously, Roger noticed the close proximity of their bodies. Their faces just inches away from each other. He wonders if Brian could feel his erection against his thigh. The hands on his wrists are warm and shaking. Perhaps not just with cold, but also indignation.

“Brian, I’m—” Roger was about to apologize, even though he knows he shouldn’t be apologizing in the first place, when Brian’s hold tightens that he ended up squawking. “S-Stop! It hurts!”

“You’re such a bratty prick, you know that!?”

“Brian, please!”

Thankfully, Brian did loosen his grip and get off him without any word. Letting out a sharp inhale while exasperatedly rubbing a hand on his face, he disappeared to the bathroom. Seconds later, Roger then heard the sound of water coming from the tap.

Feeling so small and still shaken due to fear, he found himself gathering Brian’s fallen duvet and wrapped himself with it. Dashing towards the door and leaving it ajar, Roger was too stunned to almost process what just happened.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

         “My bedroom’s locked!” but then Roger found himself back on Brian’s bedroom, minutes later he left.

Brian, who was only wearing his underwear and is in the middle of putting on his trousers, barks, “You know you could’ve knocked—”

“Well you should’ve locked the door, dumbass!” Roger rolled his eyes and walks pass by him then flops himself back on the bed. Brian let out a groan and muttered a cuss towards him.

Meanwhile, Roger couldn’t careless and even delighted that the fireplace was now lit, but the room is still a bit cold that he kept the duvet with him.

“So you took the duvet with you. No wonder why it’s suddenly missing,” looping his belt, Brian commented. Roger ignored him.

“Last night,” Brian pauses to open a door of his wardrobe. “We have to ask five maids — _five_ — to clean your room. It was so wrecked! You were completely arseholed, no wonder you don’t remember anything.”

Roger looked at his reflection in Brian’s floor-to-ceiling wall mirror as he now puts on a thick black cotton pullover. He just realized how lanky Brian’s body is. That Roger could count his visible ribs. But his skin looks so smooth, he have no chest hair at all.

“It seems that they’ll have to continue cleaning it again today,” Brian continued, now combing his curls with his fingers.  
  
“But I need to properly get dressed,” Roger grumbled. “Or else my balls is going to freeze.”

Surprisingly, Brian let out a snort. “Oh, Roger…”

Roger lowered his eyes and curled his lips, trying not to smile back.

“Hey,” Brian called his attention, his usual voice back. “I’ll look for Mr. Tony and get you clothes, alright? You stay here and don’t do anything weird.”

“And what do you mean by that exactly?” Roger cocks an eyebrow.

“Oh! I don’t know—like going through my stuff,” nonchalantly, Brian points out, sauntering towards the bed. “Hiding my things. Switching the places where I keep them.”

Roger quickly look away, guiltily. _Fuck! This bastard is_ _definitely_   _observant._

“Can I have my socks? You’re sitting on them,” he heard Brian looming above him.

“Oh… sorry…” Roger hands him the pair, avoiding his eyes.

The bed slightly bounces as Brian sat on the side. He cleared his throat after a moment of deafening silence,“By the way, I’m sorry about this morning. I was just…”

Roger knows what he meant. “I sincerely apologize, too. And no offense, Brian —I was still half-asleep when I thought you were a hired courtesan.”

“What?” Brian laughed that comes forced and shaky. “You thought I’m a _what_?”

Cringing inwardly, Roger couldn’t believed that he used the older boy’s hand to stroke his erect cock while he’s innocently asleep. Should that same thing happened to Roger, he must’ve decapitated the other bloke and danced the fandango around his dead body.

But Roger has to admit: Brian’s fingers feels like magic even for such short period. Perhaps…Brian is so good at jerking himself. Just imagine: those long, slender, expert fingers, skittering oh-so teasingly over his length— _oh God! Where is this going!? Stop it, Roger! Fucking stop it!_

“You alright, mate?”

Puzzled, Roger looks at him. He then noticed that Brian is not looking at him, but rather on his hands that are gripping the white sheets under him.

“Yeah… I’m just really cold still,” wishing that his face is not crimson from embarrassment, Roger lied.

“You sure?” much to Roger’s horror, Brian reached out and about to touch his face or his neck. “Your face suddenly turned red.”

“Yes! I am fine, Brian!” the way he responded sounded ridiculous, even to Roger’s own ears. “Can you please find Mr. Tony now? Thank you.”

“Okay,” with a clear scowl on his face, Brian stood up and headed to the door.

After counting at least twenty seconds, Roger removes the duvet as he suddenly feels so hot inside it. Falling on his back, he stared at the wall clock: five minutes before one o’clock in the afternoon. Right on cue, his stomach grumbles. He couldn’t even remember when was the last time he had a proper meal.

Absentmindedly, Roger nuzzles on a pillow that he randomly grabbed. The scent of Brian’s shampoo still lingers on the fabric. He realized that he was lying on the same spot of the bed, where Brian slept the whole night. When Roger closed his eyes, he remembers the moment when Brian was still getting dressed. His wild imagination decided to blur the memory, and distort it; to make it look like that the lanky, but gorgeous tutor, is stripping down instead. Stripping just for Roger...

_Fuck!_

Not reaching out and answering the pleading cry of his fella down there, and giving it a squeeze feels like a total sin.

 _‘Go on! Brian won’t probably notice_ ,’ Roger’s evil subconscious winks at him darkly. ‘ _Bet he also wanks on this bed on a daily basis_.’  
Of course, Roger would really want to do it. Although, he is well aware that once Brian found out that he jerked off on his bed, he’ll most likely to skin Roger alive.

To occupy his itching hands, he takes one of Brian’s books that are neatly arranged on the top of the side drawer table.

“ _The stars: A new way to see them_ ,” Roger reads aloud. Face scrunched, he decided, “Well… I guess this will do.”

Surprisingly, he found himself enjoying reading the book as it’s easy to read and as there’s illustrations as well. He was too absorbed with the book that he didn’t heard Brian’s knocking.

“I’m back.”

Roger rest the book on the top of his chest. “What took you so long?”

Brian placed his clothes and towel on the foot of the bed. There’s a tight, uneasy smile on his face,“Got a lecture from Mr. Tony.”

“Oh…?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Brian promised. Then he says, “Use my bathroom for now. They’re still cleaning up your room.”

“Was the room really _that_ bad?” Roger suddenly feels guilty. How on earth did he managed to singlehandedly destroy his room this time around? Not that this was the first time it happened.

“It was the devil’s den,” Brian described. Roger wasn’t completely sure if he was just exaggerating.

There was a knock on the door. Brian answered it.

“The food is ready, Mr. Brian,” Gertrude informed him.

“Oh! That’s great. Thank you,” Brian smiled politely.

But Roger does not want to eat in the dining area. Even with its open and inviting built, there’s a certain hidden gloominess that he couldn’t really put his finger on.

“Can you bring the food on the veranda instead?” Roger asked the maid. “I’d rather eat there.”

He noticed how Gertrude’s eyes widens with curiosity when she realized that it was him who spoke to her. “Y- Yes, young master.”

Brian shut the door after she left. “Thank goodness! I don’t want to eat on the dining area either. Especially, since there’s only the two of us.”

“Huh?” Roger looked at him, confused. “Where’s mum and Clare?”

“Oh! Right! I haven’t told you, have I?” Brian exclaimed. “Your mother’s in Paris with Mr. Edmund for a business trip. Clare had a sleepover on her friend’s house. They all be back tomorrow though.”

“Okay,” suppressing a smile, Roger picked up his things that Brian brought for him and went to the bathroom.

He felt his heart leaped with thrill. ‘ _So it’s just the two of us, huh?’_

 

  
~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

  
       “I guess we should’ve stayed inside instead,” he heard Brian said as he rubs his palms together, and cups his bowl of stroganoff soup. When Roger looked at him from across the veranda’s metal table, the tip of his nose is turning pink.

But Roger actually don’t mind it. Especially now that he’s comfortably clad in a thick blouson bomber jacket that he borrowed from Brian that smells so much like him, comfortably chewing on his third garlic bread.  
  
After they ate, they cleared the table together, and a maid collected the dishes. Stretching lazily, Roger opened a packet of Marlboro and lights up a stick. He watches Brian from his peripheral vision; the older boy looks contented, sipping his tea and admiring the landscape of the garden. He then takes his stereo camera and snaps away.

“How are you feeling?” placing the cup down, Brian looked at him. “Better?”

“Yeah, a bit better,” after a good wank before bath, getting rid of the alcohol in his body by throwing up twice, and finally food inside his system, Roger does feel a _lot_ better. “You?”

“I’m okay,” Brian answered. Then he cleared his throat, “Does your neck still hurt?”

“Um…” awkwardly, Roger touches the part that Brian bit him earlier. “It stings a little if you press on it.”

Worried and guilty at the same time, Brian stood up from his seat. “Let me see?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m okay,” he waived his hand dismissively, shooing Brian away. But Brian ignored him. He knelt down to match Roger’s sitting height. So gently, Brian moved his hand away from his own neck.

“Oh! God, Roger. I’m sorry,” face too close to his, Brian looks at him forlornly. He paused to inspect it closely, that Roger stopped breathing. “It starting to look like a…um… hickey though.”

Roger rolled his eyes as he snorted sarcastically. “What do you expect, Professor vampire?”

Dejected, Brian looks away, lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry again, Roger. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

Almost wanting to burst into laughter that moment, Roger stops himself as Brian looks like he just committed a capital crime. But he’s just so adorable that Roger feels warm and fuzzy inside. Jokingly, he hits Brian’s right deltoid, “It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

Then, warm hands reaches and cups Roger’s face. Gentle, yet perturbed hazel gaze studying him.

Roger’s lips slightly parted open, catching his breath on his throat. He could hear his own heartbeat thumping crazily. Dropping the cigarette on the floor, he slowly closes his eyes, bracing for a kiss that he’s sure he’ll get any moment now. _Five...four... three...two...two in a half...Brian, hurry the fuck up!_

When he opened his eyes again, Brian is badly shaking, as he realized that the older boy actually envelops him into a hug. “I was so scared, Roger! That stunt that you did. Please don’t do that again, I beg you.”

His chin resting on Brian’s left shoulder, frozen, Roger listens to him whimpering. “If you need someone to talk to, I’ll be here to listen. Just don’t— just think of your mother. And Clare. Do you think they’ll survive when they also lost you too?”

Abruptly untangling Roger, Brian wipes his eyes with his left thenar. “What do you think Clare will feel if one day she’ll wake up and can’t find you? Roger, you’re her rock. She loves you so much — _so_ _much_ — that you’ll also kill a huge part of her, if you’ll waste away like this.”

The familiar words hits home. It was close to what his mother have said in the hospital, after they took him there. One rainy night, two weeks after new year, he cut himself.  
He was drunk, high, heartbroken, and hopeless. Roger was filled with rage when he found out that he’s still alive. His mother told him that she leaves him no choice, but to send him to a private and posh Rehabilitation Centre in Surrey.

  
“ _It’s for your good, my son_ ,” tears streaming down her face, his mother bade him goodbye that day. “ _Always remember that I love you so much, mon cher enfant.”_

  
Roger bitterly stayed there for almost nine months, that he ended up celebrating his 19th birthday on the said place. He’s not quite sure if Clare knows about it, but he thinks she have an idea.

Brian’s arms are back on him once again. This time, Roger tightly hugged him back.

He’d only known this person for a month, yet he feels in his soul that he’d known him forever. The warmth emanating from Brian’s body makes Roger feel safe, loved, and needed. The smell of Brian’s cologne, the smell of his shampoo. It feels so right. Roger wishes to stay on that place and time forever.

Brian smoothed his back and says, “Let’s go back inside. We might catch a cold.”

The older boy cleared the tea set, while Roger holds door and the curtain for him. Brian then placed the tray on the floor, in front of the fireplace. After shutting the door, Roger went straight to bed and watches Brian add some dried logs to increase the heat of the room. Once he’s done, he walks towards the bed and flops down on his stomach and lets out a yawn.

Roger pats the spot next to him, “Come here.”

Brian raised his head a little and lazily moves his body upwards like a caterpillar. Letting out a soft laugh, Roger then reached out and dares to touch a lock of Brian’s curls. It was surprisingly soft than he expected.

“So why did Mr. Tony lectured you?” Roger asked as he starts playing with Brian’s hair which apparently he does not mind.

Sighing, Brian’s brows furrowed a little,“He told me to stay out of your business, the night before I break into your room. But obviously I didn’t listen so… there you go. He said that he’ll let it slide for now.”

“But why did you come to my room?”

“Because I was worried-sick!” Brian confessed. “Roger, I didn’t see you after our picnic, and you didn’t showed up during meals. Then I found out that you’re not eating after bumping into Gertrude last Thursday night, and overheard her conversation with Mr. Tony. I thought I said something that might have offended you the last time we spoke.”

Roger bit his lower lip. Despite being told not to by the mansion’s head butler, Brian still went out his way just to check if he’s okay. If Brian didn’t stubbornly breaks in his room, Roger must’ve been completely wasted again. And probably ended up in the hospital for being so careless.

Removing his hand off his head, Brian gets on one elbow, and turned to him while resting his head on his hand. He waited for a couple of seconds before almost whispering, “Why’d you do it?”

There was a pause.

“Well…” uncomfortable, Roger let out an exhale. But he knew he owes Brian an explanation at the very least. His heart starts to thrum faster, and there’s a lump forming on his throat. “I was afraid.”

Brian’s eyes searched his face, patiently waiting in silence for him to continue.

“I was worried… that I shared too much of my story… with you…”

Brian opens his mouth then closes it again. Then so gently, he asked, “You’re afraid that I’m going to tell on you?”

There’s a part of Roger that would want him to burst into tears, and curl himself around the older boy to feel his body’s warmth again, to make himself feel better. “Or perhaps treats you differently?”

“Or make fun of me…” Roger added dimly, lowering his eyes.

“Roger, I’ll never do that,” Brian assured him, firmly. He then reached out his hand and give it a squeeze. “To me, it’s a privilege to be trusted by you even though we’ve only known each other for a short while.”

“Thank you, Brian,” he replied shortly.

The older boy tightens his hold, “And about you, listening to my phone conversations with my family and friends—”

“I won’t listen to them anymore—”

Brian shakes his head. “It’s okay. You can still listen if you want. I’m fine by it. If you have anything you want to ask about, just ask me. Don’t jump into conclusion like what you did the last time.”

“But why…?”

“If that what makes _you_ more comfortable, I’m fine with it,” Brian smiled. Then he retracts his hand and place it under his head, but still looking at him. “Besides, I don’t have anything to hide. So prepared to be bored with my mum’s occasional calls and Freddie’s annoying voice.”

 _Freddie_. Roger felt that his eye twitched a little with the mention of the name. Whenever Brian talks about that friend of his, or whenever they’re on the phone, Roger could see the crinkles of Brian’s eyes. He had never seen those eye crinkles whenever Brian talks to him.

“This Freddie bloke…” Roger tried to sound as neutral as possible. “What is he like?”

“I consider Freddie as one of my closest friends,” Brian stretches both his legs. “We met at Uni. We have a common friend who introduced us to each other. He’s one of our popular star students.”

“But aren’t you a star student yourself, Brian?” Roger asked curiously.

Brian chuckled. “I’m an honor student, but I’m _not_ popular. So when Freddie welcomed me into his circle of friends, it felt like I’ve found a new identity. And I knew that he befriended me for being _me_. Not for my brains, and the benefits he could get from me.”

“Perhaps, he also befriended you because of your looks, handsome boy,” Roger commented, grinning.

Brian laughed, eyes crinkling. _Finally_.

“I’m not you, Roger.”

He pokes Brian’s rib,“What do you mean by that?”

“Hey! I am _complementing_ you,” Brian clarified, chuckling as he rubs his rib. “Unlike you, I don’t look like a real-life Prince that stepped outta fairytale book nor comes from a rich family.”

Roger looked at Brian’s face, quizzically. Surprised that this tutor doesn’t think that he’s good-looking himself.

“When I was old and smart enough to judge a character, I become quite selective with people I want to be close with,” Brian explained after a few beats of silence. “I’ve experienced being befriended by people, then drops me once they’re done taking advantage of me. Girls who only dated me, so I can do their homework and school projects for them… should I go on?”

Shaking his head, Roger says, “I get what you’re trying to say.”

“Really?” Brian eyed him curiously. “I mean, yeah, I can imagine some rotten people would only want to be friends with you because you’re an heir. But for the girls, I think they wouldn’t even care if you’re rich or not.”

“You think I’m popular with the ladies because of my face?” brow slightly raised, Roger smugly asked.

Brian chortled. “I’ve complimented you three times already, and yet you’re still fishing for more.”

“Sorry. I don’t do subtleties,” Roger joked, raising both his shoulders. He watches as Brian laughs out loud. Curls bouncing lightly, as his face stretched adorably with his laugh lines.

That moment feels so surreal.

Roger couldn’t remember when was the last time he had a conversation with someone where he doesn’t have to have a strong front; that he have to constantly reminds himself again and again that he’s Roger Meddows Taylor, the heir of the Taylor empire. Right now, they’re just two lads hanging out.

Perhaps, because Brian comes from a different background. A simple, yet genuinely kind and loving upbringing. And the people Roger was forced to be surrounded with growing up, were nothing but greedy, backstabbing snakes.

“Brian?”

“Hmm?”

Roger swallowed the nervous lump, “Can you be my friend?”

He felt that his world slowly collapsing when Brian props himself up, his broad smile slowly fading.  
  
All of his fearful thoughts coming to reality. Brian starts maniacally laughing at him, and telling him that there’s no fucking way he wants to be friends with an unstable asshole of a person like him. That he’s only there to be Clare’s tutor, that’s it. Brian only helped him just out of pity and mercy.

“Roger? Roger, are you not listening?” he felt his shoulders being slightly shaken.

“What?” blinking multiple times, he realized that Brian was now sitting on his knees in front of him.

“I said yes, I’ll be your friend,” Brian told him. Then he adds, almost shyly, “I actually thought that we’re friends already. Sorry for assuming.”

Roger mentally screams in happiness and relief. Brian said he thought they’re _already_ friends.

“Are you happy?” Brian asked, his eyes twinkling, waiting for Roger’s answer. 

Roger let out a teasing hum as if he’s still deciding. But deep inside he’s already celebrating. He was then surprised when Brian gently pushes him on one shoulder out-of-nowhere and squeezes his nose. “You’re such a tease!”

“Ow! Brian! That hurts!” Roger whined even though it doesn’t really hurt that much.

“That was the same thing I did to you last night,” Brian laughs as he watches him massage his nose. “You’re a handful when was trying to clean you up.”

“You bathed me?” horrified, Roger gawked at him. “You saw me naked?”

“Yeah…” shrugging, Brian confirmed. “What’s wrong with that, Roger? We’re both boys anyway. And besides, I only shampooed your hair. And soaked you up on your tub filled with bubbly soap.”

_So he didn’t saw the scars..._

Setting aside his insecurities and growing fear, Roger let out a forced laugh as he jokes, “Bet you let your eyes feast over my nakedness.”

There was a very quick indescribable emotion that registers on Brian’s face, but then changes when he guffaws, and kiddingly hits him with a pillow. “Oh! You wish, wanker!”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

  
      They were inside the music room when Mr. Tony called them for supper. Roger was beyond delighted as he watches Brian acts just like a little boy inside a toy store. He was so excited, yet very polite and respectful before touching Roger’s and his dad’s massive collection of guitars, always asking for permission first.

This time though, they don’t have any choice but to eat in the dining area. But it turns out that it wasn’t that bad as they both imagined. They talked and shared stories with each other. Roger found himself laughing out loud with Brian’s story about him accidentally selling Freddie’s jacket to a customer.

Once they’re done, Roger feels that he’s so full, not just physically but emotionally— in a good way.

“Sleepy?” Brian asked him as they climbs the stairs to the second floor.

“A little,” Roger answered as he rubs his left eye. The heater was finally fixed when they’ve reached Brian’s bedroom.

“Wanna see the stars with me for a bit?”

Stomach summersaulting, Roger nodded excitedly. He waited on the bed as Brian sets up the telescope on the veranda.

“Roger, come here! Hurry!” urgently, Brian calls him from outside. “Eta Equariids is here!”

Jumping off the bed and dashing outside the door, he saw Brian smiling broadly as he turns to him.

“It’s beautiful!” Brian exclaimed. “You can see it pretty much with the naked eye, but try look at them using the telescope!”

When Roger looked up, the dark sky and the million stars above him is nothing but pure magic that left him almost jaw-slacked.

“Come here,” impatient, Brian guides him to the telescope and helps him positions his body angle; one hand on Roger’s waist and the other on his right shoulder. Roger was thankful to the darkness as it concealed his visible swallow with the sudden touch.

“Whoa!” gasping, Roger’s eyes grew bigger and the hairs on his arms stood up, as he looks through the eyepiece. It was magnificently breathtaking!

“It’s actually better if we would’ve been in the garden —but were here now anyway,” looking up, Brian’s face is next to Roger’s.

Smiling with gratefulness, he lets Brian takes over the telescope again. Yes, the stars above them looks wonderful, indeed. But Roger rather watch a fascinated looking Brian: eyes twinkling with joy, and genuine wide smile.

After he’s done admiring the view that the sky had graciously offered them that night, Roger told Brian that he’ll go back inside. Brian just nodded shortly and return his focus on the telescope.  
Minutes later, while Roger is sprawled on the carpeted floor, a flushed looking Brian also comes inside, still grinning. His blue gaze followed Brian as he sets his alarm at three in the morning.

“Gonna check later if the meteor shower will be more visible in the garden,” Brian offered an explanation without Roger asking. Then he sat down on his study table, takes a notebook and a pen, and starts scribbling away.

Propping himself up, Roger arranged himself kneeling on the side of the bed. Comfortable silence filled the room, crickets softly humming outside. Slightly mouthing the things he’s writing, Brian is now obviously lost in his own world. Head tilting to the side every now and then, scratching the side of his head or the side of his nose. Roger finds tranquility just looking at him.

When Brian looks up and turned to smile at him, Roger knew one thing: he’s slowly but surely, falling in love with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aeeeeeoh! I watched BoRhap for the 8th time today (with my friends this time), bought some movie merchs and now I’m.fucking.broke! \\(Ｔ▽Ｔ)/  
> Daz the reason why the chapter update was later posted than I promised.
> 
> Anyway! THANK YOU SO MUCH for your kind and wonderful comments. You dont know how elated I am whenever I read them, always goes back to them whenever I'm having a writer’s block. And gosh! 100+ Kudos?!  
> I think I deserve a good glass of wine tonight lmao! ❤️
> 
> Have a great day! xoxo
> 
>  
> 
> =====
> 
> “It’s just a bit weird, Roger. What exactly are you doing with that car?”


	7. Chapter 7

 

      **“I** ’m planning to throw a big party next week,” Mrs. Taylor happily announced, one evening after supper. Closing the daily journal she’s writing on, she rests her chin on her hand. “Mum and Dad will be there, I hope.”

Sitting quietly on a velvet plush chair, Roger gazes up to her from the Frank Herbert’s SciFi novel he is currently reading. It’s been sitting on his bedroom for months now, and only been picked up as Brian recommended that it’s a good one.

Speaking of the devil himself, Brian is in the corner of the family room with Clare, quietly discussing the results of her end-of-the-month exams. His sister, apparently, has grown to become a perfectionist (only to Brian’s classes), that she wants all of her exam results to be perfect.  
Roger thinks that Clare is trying _waaay_ to hard to impress and please Brian. While on the other hand, she treats her other tutors like shit.

“That seems to be a nice idea, Madame,” smiling as he stops from reviewing some documents, Mr. Edmund agreed. “Should I start making arrangements tomorrow?”

“Yes. Please. Start with the usual.”

Raising her head, Clare turned to their mother,“Great! I can’t wait to see Nan and Pops!”, after a second she then asks,“May I invite some of my friends as well?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Mrs. Taylor smiled. “Are you thinking about the children from the Geldof’s, Harris’, Murdof’s, and the Webb’s?”

“Yeah,” Clare answered, then grumbled. “But I hope that Harriet won’t come though.”

“Why not, dear? Aren’t the two of you friends in Boarding School?”

“Ugh! No, mother,” Clare wrinkled her nose. “She’s a total backstabbing, horrible looking, smelly bitch.”

Surprised by his sister’s remark, Roger hides his snicker by covering his face with the book.

“Clare, _cheri_ , mind your language,” Mrs. Taylor warned her gently. “You might not like the Webb’s oldest daughter, but I want you to behave in front of her parents, okay?”

“Of course, mum,” Clare’s voice was too saccharine for Roger to believe.

“That’s my girl,” Mrs. Taylor beamed. Winking at her, she adds, “But you’re right though...she _is_ a bitch.”

Clare laughs, mouth slightly open. Brian chuckles, shaking his head a little. In the most cliché moment, Roger felt his heart just skipped a beat.

His growing love for the older boy is going way too out-of-the rail these days. He cannot even remember when he starts having a crush on Brian.

Nope. Actually, scratch that. He does.

It was the night when Brian attended Clare. Roger was drawn to Brian’s kind and gentle charm, but then he keeps on shutting the feeling down, as he does not trust the tutor by then. Next, he realized that it turned to be a full-blown crush when Brian took care of him when he was sick. That look that Brian gave him, when he pointed out, grinning stupidly, that Roger mentioned his name for the first time? Yeah, that has been branded into his brain.

Now that they’re officially friends and have grown closer —and getting more closer everyday, Roger found himself sinking deep under the quicksand that is Brian. He loves it, yet frightened by it.  
He had never found any other boy _this_ attractive. Sure, he had male friends from school before that are blessedly good-looking—even more handsome than Brian is. But Roger always cringe to the idea that he was —and will be— attracted to those blokes.

Roger is firmly convinced that he’s not bisexual nor gay.

Except, for this curly haired, adorable poodle face that looks serious, pointing Clare’s writings on her exam paper, with his pointer finger that had once touched Roger’s morning wood.

With Brian’s lowered lids and slightly parted lips, Roger’s wild imagination kicks in, and fantasizing that that might be Brian’s face while getting a blowy from him.

_Fuck!_ Roger let out an involuntary loud cough. His imagination is too wicked, that he felt _something_ suddenly bumps on the back of his throat.

“You alright there, Roger?” Mrs. Taylor checks his face under her chic eyeglasses that she wears when she’s working. Unfortunately, Roger inherited his poor vision from her.

“I’m fine, mum,” he replied shortly, clearing his throat. Noticing Brian’s and Clare’s curious eyes on him, he defensively blurted out, “What are you two looking at? Didn’t your mothers taught you it’s rude to stare?”

“Well _I_ did, didn’t I?” Mrs. Taylor pokes fun at him, earning a quiet huff from Mr. Edmund.

Clare smirked at him. And then, she taps on Brian, gesturing him to come closer, and whisper something to him. Brian’s eyes crinkled in delight.

“Hey!” Roger whined. “What are you whispering about?”

“I’m going to bed,” rolling her eyes at him, Clare starts collecting her exam sheets and things. “Good night!”

“Come and give me a kiss, sweetie,” Mrs. Taylor opens her arms for her.

“Night, mum,” Clare gives her a kiss on the cheek.

Roger’s frown couldn’t be more visible when he heard Brian says, “Good night, Madame.”

“Brian, you’re going to sleep now?” Roger asked, watching as Brian gives his mum a hug while Clare’s hand is already curled with his.

Clare, who decides to be satan’s little spawn that moment, practically urges Brian out of the family room with a teasing smile on her face. “Let’s go, Brian.”

“Brian?” Roger refrain himself for showing irritation.

“Um, yeah,” with an apologetic smile, Brian answered. “But if you still wanna hang out—”

“Brian, come on!” Clare pouts, letting out a baby-voice. “I’m sleepy. And I still want to know what happened next to Tom Bombadil.”

“You know you can actually fucking read the damn book yourself, right?” Roger sneered at his sister.

“Roger!” Mrs. Taylor gasped.

Brian gave him a quick pointed look.

“Ooh! Someone’s getting _jealous_ ,” Clare didn’t know she’s already walking on thin ice, wrapping her arms around Brian’s skinny waist while looking at him darkly with a smile. “Sorry, Roger. Brian’s mine.”

Patting the top of Clare’s head, Brian says, “Stop teasing your brother, Clare. And besides, Roger’s also my friend.”

_Right! Take that, you bratty little bitch!_

Disappointed, Clare harrumphed as she buries her face against Brian’s chest. “He started it.”

Roger imagines that he’s now painfully pulling one of Clare’s braids.

Mrs. Taylor clapped her hands. “Okay. Apologize to Roger first before going to bed, Clare.”

“What? No!” his sister protested. At the same time, smugly Roger said, “I’m waiting.”

Secretly rolling her eyes, Clare removes her arms off Brian. “Roger, I’m sorry…”

“There you go,” said Mrs. Taylor looking proud. “That’s really nice, Clare.”

“—I’m sorry that you’re an ass!” then Clare dashed out the room, snatching Brian away who almost trips when his clogs got caught with something on the carpet.

“Why you little—” Roger bites his lower lip. The sound of the family room’s french door slamming, rings on his ears.

Mrs. Taylor pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh. “Sorry about that, son. She’ll get her lecture tomorrow.”

Grumbling, Roger stood up from the chair. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Actually, son, can I talk to you in private for a bit?” Mrs. Taylor abruptly stops him. Hearing for his cue to leave, Mr. Edmund wordlessly excused himself.

“Sit next to me, Roger,” Mrs. Taylor pats the empty seat beside her. “Come here.”

“You’re not going to lecture me, aren’t you?” already annoyed, Roger doesn’t want to go to bed with a heavy angry feeling on his chest. “It was clearly Clare’s fault.”

His mother shakes her head, a gentle smile on her face. Sighing, Roger obeyed and sat next to her.

Pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, Mrs. Taylor asked, “Is it true?”

“True, what?” stopping himself from dodging her hand, Roger is still not completely comfortable with her touch.

“That you’re now friends with Brian?”

“Yeah,” Roger confirmed, curling his lips to suppress a pleased smile.

“That’s really good to know, sweetheart,” Mrs. Taylor looks genuinely happy. “That boy is really such a blessing.”

_And a curse_. Wincing, Roger thinks to himself. Now that he had realized that he have feelings for Brian, he doesn’t know _what_ to do about it. He couldn’t picture himself confessing his love to the other boy, it’s totally not him. Roger is used on being the one who is being confessed _to_. Moreover, Brian looks and acts like a total straight bloke.  
So, for Roger to think that Brian will confess to him any day now, is just like waiting for fishes to swim in the sky.

“Roger, your grandfather offered me a proposal,” intertwining his hands with hers, Mrs. Taylor calls his attention back to her. “He want you to formally meet the Potgeiter’s youngest daughter, Sarina.”

“A marriage proposal?” Roger brows raised, quickly stood up as he snatches his hands back. “ _Again_?”

Hastily, Mrs. Taylor grabbed on his wrists. “Sweetheart, he’s only after your future. You’re not getting younger, and you are the heir of the Taylor’s family business—”

“Well I don’t want it!” Roger growled, leaving her side to take his book. “Give it to all Clare, for all I care!”

Mrs. Taylor’s jaw clenched,“Son, you do know that your Grandfather and your Dad won’t allow that to happen. And I’m not getting younger either, I need you to accept the fact that you’ll be the one who will manage all of this once I passed—”

_Not gonna lecture, my ass!_

“Roger, son, please…”  
  
Heart burning in anger, Roger strode to the door and slammed it for the second time that night. Not really thinking where he’s going, he let his feet march to the second floor’s veranda. Taking a cigarette that he badly needed, he wishes that he have something stronger to hit.

When he looks up, the sky full of stars winks back at him. Turning his head to the side, he saw that the lights on Brian’s bedroom was still off. Clare must still be awake, hogging all of Brian’s precious attention.

_Fuck_   _it!_ Extremely jealous, Roger kicks the thick marbled railings until his toes burns inside his shoes.

He felt like a child again. It was the same feeling he had when Clare was still baby, and his parents couldn’t stop themselves on doting on her. As if she’s an only child.

Desperately killing the dark feeling off, Roger smoked his lungs out. Once he knew he had calmed down, he went straight to Clare’s bedroom. He’ll fucking collect Brian if he needs to.  
That bastard promised that he’ll listen to Roger if he needs someone to talk to. At the same time, Roger is extremely  _aware_ that he’s acting so needy and clingy and toxic. The thought scares him. But he really needs Brian to be by his side right now, or else the shit is about to hit the fan.

Did not even bother knocking, Roger bolted the door of Clare’s bedroom open. Only to find out that his sister was alone and is already fast asleep, blonde ringlets fanned out on her pillow.

Beating himself mentally, Roger let out a Zen breath as he stood by the doorway. He’s being impulsive again. Clare might be annoying and acts like brat, but she doesn’t deserve his anger. He’s not being a wonderful older brother to her to start with. It’s not her fault that Roger have feelings for her tutor. _Her_ tutor.

Letting out another exhale, he walks towards her bed and planted an apologetic kiss on his sister’s forehead. Hoping that the heavy smell of cigarette on his lips won’t linger on her hair, Roger heads to the door.

He pulled up short when the happy wedding portraits of his parents smiled back to him. Cerulean eyes taking in his parents younger faces, Roger just stood there in the foyer.  
He wonders what their life would be, if his Dad was still alive? Would his parents be able to save their marriage?

A year before the car crash, Roger knows that his parents relationship was already falling apart. They tried to hide it, but the cracks are just obvious to oversee.

Up until Roger was on his tween years, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor used to be so inseparable. So inseparable, as if their hands were glued together. Acting as if they’re still newlyweds.

  
They would speak to each other in French, mostly during supper (Roger then learned, years later once he became fluent, that they’ve been dirty talking). They would whisper lovingly to each other; a peck on the lips or the cheek, a subtle squeeze on the thigh, on the knee, or on the waist.

  
There were nights when their governesses would put him and Clare to bed early, so their parents can have some peace and quiet moments. Or if they were to attend parties. Roger had seen them multiple times having candlelight date nights on the garden. Or sometimes just strolling around, enjoying each others company.  
Mrs. Taylor always cry whenever their dad will be away due to work for more than two weeks. And when she was the one who was away, Mr. Taylor wants his wife to always phone him every couple of hours or when she’s available. They would talk on the phone for hours. Roger losing the count of his father saying, “ _Je_ _t’aime_ _mon_ _bijou_ ”, “ _Je_ _brûle_ _de_ _pouvoir_ _encore_ _te_ _toucher_ ” and “ _Tu_ _es_ _l’amour_ _de_ _ma_ _vie_.”

  
Roger wasn’t exactly sure who is more in love with who, but he knows that his parents loved each other so much.

Then the dreadful change happened.

Their parents barely speaking to each other. Fake smile and forced laughter, as they continue the façade that everything is still the same, whenever there’s guests around. Roger catching his father going home late, and will sleep on one of the guest bedrooms. His father not coming home for months. And once Clare and him starts complaining —or rather demands, that they badly misses him and would want to see him, Mr. Taylor would fly them to the current country he’s in.

“Will Mum follow us?” being carried by their dad, eight-year-old Clare asked.

They were on a short holiday in Prague. Strolling around the Old Town Square, a forgotten map on Roger’s one hand, and the other tightly around their father’s. The mid-afternoon breeze too cold on his face, gazing up to the other tourists bundled up in thick coats. Their father’s assistant and two disguised bodyguards languidly following behind them.

Roger was not able to see his father’s face when he said, “ _Non_ , _cheri_. Your mother have to attend some important things.”

“Are you going home with us then after?” this time it was Roger who asked. His heart breaks a little when he saw his dad shakes his head as a response. Mr. Taylor puts Clare down, pulling both him and his sister into a hug.

“I can’t promise that I can go home sooner,” green eyes watery, his dad’s warm breath tickles Roger’s left cheek. “But I always looks forward to the day when I can hug and kiss you both, every hour of the day. Always remember that I love you both so much. Very much. You’re my world. That’s why I’m working my hardest everyday, along with your mother, because I want you to never experience the hardships I had growing up.”

Roger saw silent tears rolls down his father’s face, as he buried his face against Clare’s hair, while her arm locks around Mr. Taylor’s neck. He used the sleeve of his trench coat to wipe his father’s eyes. It hurts him so bad to see his father cry like this. Giving Roger a grateful kiss on the top of his head, perhaps a bit embarrassed, Mr. Taylor forced a shaky smile. “Alright! You kiddos wants some _Smažený_ _sýr?”_

The taste on his own salty tears made Roger realize that he’s actually crying as he’s pulled back to reality. Even after three years later, the wound is still as fresh as if it only happened yesterday. He’s still grieving.

Composing himself, he make his way to Brian’s bedroom on the right wing of the second floor.

“Brian?” Roger knocks, hoping that Brian is still awake. After waiting a couple of seconds, he didn’t hear any answer. Twisting the doorknob open, Roger found the room dark. “Brian? Are you in the shower?”

Instead of squinting in the dark as he’s already blind as a bat, Roger switches on the light. The lights of Brian’s bathroom was also turned off. Thinking that Brian must be in the veranda, he parts the curtains but no one’s outside.

“He’s probably in the garden again,” disappointed, Roger mumbles to himself.

He really wants to see and speak to Brian, but he doesn’t want to go outside. He contemplates on waiting for Brian instead, but who knows what time that astrophysicist will decides to sleep.  
Like three nights ago, Brian told him that there’s gonna be meteor shower that night. Curious to see the beautiful sighting, Roger stayed up with him till 12 in the morning. But an hour after that, Roger was too sleepy that he ended up sleeping on Brian’s bed again. The next morning, he was awoken by Brian, who was already dressed up, ready to the start the day.

Roger is still wishing he was awoken with a kiss.

Clicking his tongue, Roger drags himself back to his own bedroom. He’ll just try to monopolize Brian tomorrow. Clare will have to deal with it.

By the time he reached the door of his own room, Roger was confused as he hears the vinyl player softly playing. ‘ _Here_ , _There_ _and_ _Everywhere_ ’ just finished playing and is now on the next track, ‘ _Yellow_ _Submarine_ ’, when he spotted Brian. Asleep on his bed.

_Damn_.

“Brian?” whispering, Roger carefully tiptoes to his upholstered queen-size bed. “Brian?”

Lips slightly parted and slowly breathing, the older boy looks completely knocked out with his own arm as his pillow. Roger’s copy of Kerouac’s Dr. Sax near Brian’s face.  
Marveled by the sight in front of him, holding his breath, Roger gingerly dips into the bed. Facing Brian, he swallowed the nervous feeling once he exhales. Roger drinks in Brian’s peaceful looking face, from his purplish eyelids, thick dark lashes, high cheekbones, and pink lips.

Million thoughts racing on his mind right now: should he reach out and caress Brian’s face? Should he kiss him? Should he pull him into a hug? Should he…

Slowly, frustration got mixed up with Roger’s current multiple of emotions. He’d really want to touch Brian, but there’s a part of his brain that tells him that he is not allowed to. Brian’s only a few inches from Roger, yet it felt he’s distance away. It’s almost like putting food on the table, in front of a starving man, and not letting him eat it.

Holding back an aggravated groan, Roger shuts his eyes and ignore the squirmy feeling stirring on his stomach. Cursing himself for being unfairly aroused by just looking at the other boy.

Talk about timing though, Brian made a noise in the back of his throat. Then seconds later, Roger felt the bed moves. He heard Brian hums and sighed.

“Ow! Fuck…” Brian sharply whispered under his breath.

And it was so fucking sexy in Roger’s ears. He is pretty much blisteringly holding onto self-control now.

“Ah… shit… what time is it?” groggily mumbling to himself, Brian must’ve shifted and sits up because the bed’s cushion moved again.

‘ _Time_ _to_ _fuck_ _me!’_ Roger’s mind screamed. Restraining himself from basically pouncing on Brian, to make all of his sexual fantasies into reality.

A gentle palm cups Roger’s cheek. _Gee_. Brian do know how to make it worst for Roger.

“Good God! Is he sick again?” he picture’s Brian’s face worried, eyes wide. Then the hand moves to Roger’s neck. “Why is he so warm?”

‘ _Because I’m aroused! And it’s your fucking fault!’_

Couldn’t hold it any longer, Roger pretends to stir making Brian to retract his hand. Peeking at him with one eye, Brian do looks worried despite smiling. “Hey…”

“Hey…”

“Sorry… I didn’t know I doze off while was waiting for you,” Brian explains, slightly motioning his hand. “Are you feeling feverish?”

“No. I’m alright,” rolling on his back, Roger lazily smiled at him. “I’m totally fine. We can just talk tomorrow.”

Brian sighed as he nodded. He looks like he’s still half-asleep.

So then he boldly invites, “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

“You wont mind?” eye-lids already dropping, Brian asked. “I mean, my room is just—”

Roger didn’t allow him to continue blabbering and guides him to lie down again.

“As long… that you’re not… mistake me… your courtesan…” still mumbling unintelligently, Brian lifts the duvet. His head almost knocking Roger’s. “Or else I’ll…”

Brian’s unfinished threat hangs in the air. Moments later, he’s back to dreamland.

Roger props himself up and heads to his bathroom to clean up, and most importantly, to take care of his “problem”. Once he’s done, he walks in with only a towel around his waist. Avoiding a sight of Brian’s sleeping form, he changes to his favorite cotton nightshirt and underwear.

After turning off the vinyl player and other lights, Roger goes back to bed. This time around he allowed himself to casually wrap his arm around Brain’s waist. Taking all what he can take for now.

  

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      Saturday morning before the party, Brian was awoken by someone softly tapping on his shoulder. When he screw his eyes open, Roger’s innocent doe eyes are staring back at him.

“Good morning,” Roger greeted him, smiling.

Brian croaked something as a reply. Still sleepy, he closes his eyes again.

“Brian, wake up. I _need_ you.”

Automatically, his eyes opened again and look at Roger’s sitting up position in front of him. He looks and smelled that he had already showered. Multiple silver and gold chokers on his neck while clad in white buttoned-up shirt topped with black, gold printed blazer and beige corduroy trousers, Brian thinks that he’s a bit overdressed for the day.

“What is it, Roger?” consciously covering his yawn, Brian softly stretches. “Are you off to somewhere?”

“Yes,” Roger nodded. “And you’re coming with me.”

“Ugh…why?”

“Mum and Clare already left me. I have to go to follow them. They’re in Drake Circus.”

“Okay. _And?_ ”

“You have to drive me there,” Roger explained. “I need to get a new pair of contact lenses for later.”

Rubbing his eyes, Brian asks, “Is there no chauffeur to take you instead?”

“No. And I’m not allowed to drive again for now,” Roger scowls. “And I thought that you might like it. So we can, you know… hang out.”

Brian couldn’t help but to smile at his friend’s pleading pout. A warm fuzzy feeling growing inside him.

“So…I’ll take that as a ‘yes’?” Roger grinned at him.

“Yes, your highness,” Brian playfully rolled his eyes and slowly sits-up. The smell of Roger’s perfume tickling his nose sending shivers down to his morning wood. “Give me time to prepare though. It’ll be quick.”

Roger turned to the bedside table. In his hands is a silver breakfast tray that has hot coffee and waffles with some fruits. “Already prepared your breakfast, Sir.”

“Well that’s something I’d never imagine in my life,” Brian opened his mouth, surprised. “Have you eaten?”

Roger just shortly nodded with a satisfied look in his face. Careful not to spill anything, he arranges the tray beside Brian’s hip.

Heart skipping a beat and mouth going dry, Brian’s eyes couldn’t be more pleased with the aesthetics that Roger is giving him right now. Pushing a lock of wavy blond hair behind his ear, the sunlight hitting his cheekbone giving him a rosy glow and long lashes in full display, Brian wished he could freeze the moment and take a photo.

Roger’s eyes are wide and innocent when he looked up. He pauses for a quick second, as if surprised that Brian was looking at him.

“Well you may eat now, Sir,” breaking the silence, Roger said. Then mischievously added, “Or would you want me to feed you?”

_Fuck_. Brian wished he could melt then and there. He covered a visible swallow with a forced snort.

“Yeah, I thought it’s part of the service.”

Roger then raised his eyebrow saucily with a smirk, picking up a blueberry covered with syrup. “Open up, master.”

Brian knows he’s playing a dangerous game when he did what he was told, as Roger teasingly places his fingers near his mouth. To make it more thrilling, the mansion’s young master placed a hand on Brian’s thigh, fingertips almost brushing the side of his morning arousal.

Just as Brian was about to bite Roger’s fingers, the naughty blond snatches his hand and ate the fruit himself instead. Hitting him lightly on the shoulder, Roger ordered again in a much serious tone,“Eat now, Brian! We have so many things to do today.”

Then loudly sucks on his syrup covered thumb. The sound made Brian clench his jaw for self- control. He watches as Roger hops off the bed, and heads to the bathroom to wash his hands probably.

Taking a forkful of waffle, Brain hopes that Roger did not sense his tensed aura.

  
          Feeling like an actor in a movie, Brian smoothed his hands against the stirring wheel of Roger’s Rolls-Royce. He had never driven an expensive car like this. He couldn’t help but grin.

Meanwhile, the young car owner is currently fidgeting with the cassette player. A minute later, James Brown’s ‘ _I got_ _you_ ’ started blaring, Roger singing along loudly. Brian then gamely joins him for a duet. Their harmonies, surprisingly good, mixing perfectly with the Godfather of Soul.

The two-hours drive felt like it’s only been thirty minutes when they arrived at the shopping centre. After they parked the car, the memory of his first time being in the said place brought a melancholic smile on Brian’s face. Roger hated him back then. He won’t even look at him in the eye and kept on putting distance. In comparison right now, when the two of them walking side-by-side. Brian couldn’t stop himself for putting his arm around the younger boy’s shoulder.

“Let’s go to my Optometrist’s clinic first,” says Roger, eyes wandering at the shops.

After picking up his contact lenses, Brian curiously asked,“How bad really is your eyesight, mate?”

“Quite bad,” Roger answered. “I don’t want to wear eyeglasses though, I despise them. Not just because it makes me dizzy— it also makes me look ten years older than my age.”

Stretching an arm in front of him, Roger continue explaining, “I can see clearly from this length only. The mansion will surely be lit up later, but I’ll still need a good vision since I’ll be most likely to stay outside.”

Then Brian saw the familiar sign of Trumper’s salon. “You’re going to cut your hair again?”

He hopes that his tone didn’t sounds too disappointed, as he likes Roger’s current hair cut.

“Just a trim,” Roger stops walking and locks some of his blond hair between his index and middle finger and inspects its ends. “And my fringe keeps on getting in my eyes now.”  
  
Brian did the same and tentatively brushes his fingers against Roger’s forehead and part the hair there. He must’ve been imagining things when Roger lowered his eyes and felt his breath hitched against his hand. “Yeah… it’s quite long now.”

When Roger looked up again, his eyes are dark. Not dark that they’re mad at Brian or something. It’s like a mixture of sultriness and slight hint of irritation. Roger then takes Brian’s arm and they entered the salon together.

Thirty minutes later, when Roger looks like he just stepped out of from a page of a Vogue magazine, he told Brian that he’s starving. “God! I’ve been craving for McDonald’s!”

Brian snorted. For someone who have his type of social standing, Roger doesn’t look the type of person that would eat at a fast food restaurant. Let alone sounds so excited about it.

Once they’ve reached the place, Brian asked what Roger he wants and told him to find an available seat for the two of them. After getting their order, he saw how Roger’s face lit up when he saw him with a tray full of food.

“I’ve missed _you_!” eyes twinkling, Roger takes a big bite of his requested McDouble cheese burger.

Brian rested his chin on his hand, enjoying the sight of Roger being genuinely happy, as he nibbles on a fry. “Its rare for me to see you so excited because of food.”

“I _love_ to eat, you know,” Roger takes a sip of his large milk shake, while Brian unwraps his filet-o-fish sandwich. “It’s just that Mum doesn’t allow us to eat at fast food that much.”

“Well it’s a bit unhealthy,” Brian agreed. “Only if you’ll eat it with moderation.”

Roger throw him a pointed look and points at him with a fry. “Brian, we’re too young to worry about that bullshit.”

Not wanting to start an argument, Brian just shrugged. After a while he felt and notices some curious glances from some girls from the other tables around them. Stuffing his face with fries, Roger followed his eyes. “What is it?”

“They’re looking at us… I think…?” Brian leans forward to whisper. Roger turned his head again, this time the girls smiled back and one courageously waved even.

“They’re looking at _you_ , I mean,” correcting himself, Brian awkwardly takes a bite of his sandwich.

A smug look already plastered on his face, Roger asked,“You think they’ll give us their number if we flirt back?”

“What do you mean ‘we’? They’re obviously only interested in you, gorgeous guy,” Brian thinks it’s stupid —and a bit insensitive— of Roger to think that those girls are also interested in him.

“Oh! That’s bollocks!” Roger argued back. “Look at those chicks —the one wearing orange top and the other one wearing a polka dot dress— they’re checking you out, Brian.”

True enough, when Brian cautiously returned his gaze, the girls that Roger had described was looking at him. And they’re pretty cute too.

“So? What do you think, dream boy?” Roger poking his cheek with his index finger, Brian jolts as if electrocuted.

“No, Roger.”

“You’re no fun,” the blond heir scoffs.

Clearing his throat, Brian then confessed, quietly, “And besides, I’m really painfully shy and awkward. My ex-girlfriend and I just broke up a year ago, so I couldn’t bare any more rejection for now.”

The playfulness on Roger’s face drops as he lowered his eyes. Brian opens his mouth to say an apology, but he couldn’t think of a reason why he has to apologize to Roger.

“Having a girlfriend for years, Brian— ”not meeting his gaze, Roger took a fry and study it between his fingers. “—what does it feels like?”

Brian stared at Roger, wondering if he’s just taking a piss on him again. “Why did you ask? Have you never had a relationship that lasted for years or at least a year?”

“Never,” a sad smile crossed Roger’s face. “And I don’t really do relationship. I do business partnership.”

_Business_ _partnership?_

“What do you mean?” brows furrowed, Brian asked.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Roger explains,“I’ve _only_ dated girls whom my Grandfather thinks would be financially beneficial to the business and the family. Girls who also came from affluent and powerful families, just like ours.”

“Okay,” Brian nods. He thinks of the rich girls from the neighboring all-girls boarding school in Rhoedean, which was the same school that Clare has attended. “Are they not your type? Are they boring?”

“No. The ones that got engaged with me are all beautiful and fun.”

_So it’s not just one girl..._

“But then… what happened?”

“Something bad came up. The engagements were broken off,” Roger let out an exhale. “Just like that.”

“Oh… that’s a bit…” Brian stopped himself for saying something he’ll regret later.

“So before I can manage to know them further, I can no longer do it, because it’ll be awkward for both parties,” Roger continues. “And my Grandfather will find his way for us not to be romantically linked anymore.”

Blinking his eyes multiple times as to process what he just heard, Brian admits, “Sometimes you’re really like a...world away from me.”

“It’s a bit complicated, I know,” Roger says thoughtfully with a sigh. “I might see a new marriage candidate later, at the party.”

Brian winces internally. He couldn’t stomach the fact that he will most likely to see a beautiful, rich girl, openly flirting with Roger at the party tonight.

“Um, excuse me.”

Now standing on Brian’s side, is one of the staring girls from the other table.

“Hello,” both him and Roger greeted back politely.

“Um, this is…” she let out a nervous giggle. “You see, my friends and I couldn’t help but to ask: are you… both single by any chance?”

“Sorry?” Roger pretends as if he didn’t heard the clear question. Brian felt his mouth went dry.

“You’re um… both gorgeous — _especially_ you,” the girl couldn’t tear her eyes away from Roger’s face before turning to Brian. “So we just wanna know if you’re both single...if you are, then if its okay if you’re okay for us to get to know you both?”

Brian shoots Roger an uneasy glance.  
  
“Would it be fine if I ask your name?” the girl asked after.

“I’m Brian.”

“Pleasure.”

“Roger.”

“Nice to meet you, Roger.”

“My name is Elizabeth, but I prefer ‘Effy’,” grinning, she turn her head to the side to call her friends to approach their table.

“Um, Brian, this is Kayla,” Effy introduces her friend. “Kayla, this is Brian.”

They all shook each other’s hands. Kayla promptly compliments Brian and says that he reminds him of someone she knows.

“I’m actually from Feltham,” Brian said.

“Wait— Aren’t you Tim’s bandmate?” Kayla’s eyes twinkled. “You play the guitar right?”

Surprised, Brian eyes widens. “How did you know that?”

“Tim’s my second cousin from my mum’s side,” she explained. “No wonder you looked familiar! I’ve seen you lads play before, thrice I think. You’re all amazing, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say,” Brian smiled shyly, flattered as he blushes. Also happy that he found a mutual.

“What brought you to Cornwall?”

“I got a tutoring job here.”

“Oh! That’s amazing!” the girls gasped. Kayla then adds, “You must be really smart as well.”

“He is,” Roger agreed. When Brian turns to him with a smile, Roger’s face was dead-serious. “I’m sorry, ladies, but it’s time for us to go.”

The girls made a whining noise as their shoulders dropped. “But are you not going to finish your food at least?”

“We’ll have them bagged,” Roger picks up the tray and stood up from the chair. “Let’s go, Brian.”

Awkwardly, Brian told the girls that it was nice to meet them. He gave Kayla another handshake while Roger asked someone to take care of their leftovers. They walked to the parking lot in silence. Brian raking his head, trying to figure out the sudden change of Roger’s mood.

“Wait,” finally, Brian caught Roger’s wrist as he’s about to unlock the passenger’s seat. “Did I do something wrong? Did I say something?”

“Nothing, Brian,” Roger tried to shake his hand off, but he didn’t let him. “Let me go.”

“No, Roger. We’re not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Exhaling sharply, Roger looked at him. “You said you’re awkward and shy, and yet there you are, flirting back.”

“Flirting?” Brian’s brows furrowed, but his voice calm. “I was being _nice_.”

“Well that’s what _I_ felt and saw!” Roger snapped. “And you made me feel left out.”

Brian shuts his eyes. He got so busy talking to Kayla that he thought Roger was _also_ talking to the other girls around him. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it on purpose. I thought you’re also having a conversation with the other girls.”

They just stood there in silence. Roger’s eyes then softens. “Sorry for snapping like that, Brian. I— I’m sorry again.”

Of course, Brian will forgive him right away. He cups the back of Roger’s head and placed it on his shoulder. Roger then smoothen his back with his hand. Just then a couple next to their car stepped out and is arguing.

“No, honey! I am not going to stuff baby carrots on your arsehole while you’re wearing a man thong!”

Both him and Roger have the same quiet and shocked expression as they looked at each other. Then seconds later they burst into laughter and immediately hops inside the car.

 

             Clare was just descending downstairs when they came home. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.”

Roger didn’t answer exactly her question and shove the McDonalds paper bag on her hands. “It’s got burger and fries in it. Go eat in your room.”

“Oh! Wow! Thank you, Roger!” Clare gasped as if her brother just presented her the most expensive gift ever.

“You’re welcome! Now go!” Roger ordered hastily. “Go! Before mum sees you!”

They watches as Clare practically race upstairs. When Brian checks the time on the living rooms grandfather clock, it’s almost three in the afternoon. Due to lack of sleep and for driving for a total of almost four hours combined, Brian heard his bed calling him for a nap.

“I’ll also go upstairs now,” he told Roger as he yawns. “I need some shuteye.”

Roger nods as he smiles at him. “Thanks for coming with me, Brian.”  
  
“Anytime,” Brian smiled back, warmly and heads to the staircase.

As he exchanges into a much comfortable clothes inside his bedroom, a thought, out-of-nowhere, pops inside Brian’s mind: for Roger to have that kind of reaction towards the girls at the mall, was he jealous? Perhaps, he was. But Brian does not want to think about it too much. He knows himself. Once he start overthinking, he’ll look into the smallest of details. And he’s afraid that he might read the situation differently than it should be.  
  
Shaking off the preposterous thought that Roger _might_ like him more than a friend, Brian falls into the bed, resting his body and mind for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Hey! Hey! Hope everyone’s having a great day! <3 
> 
> I’ve written a MayLor one-shot (The Hands the demon adored), kindly check it out if you have not read it. By the way, the update was pretty slow because I got distracted by the amount of amazing MayLor and Queen fanfictions here on AO3! And the fact that some of the my old faves from Tumblr and LiveJournal has been posted here as well, makes it more distracting! (∩˃o˂∩)♡
> 
> On a serious note, whether you’re an old or new fan of Queen and BoRhap in general, may I please, please beg, **DO NOT SEND ANY FANFIC LINKS —NO MATTER HOW STELLAR IT IS— TO QUEEN MEMBERS, BORHAP ACTORS AND ACTRESSES AND THEIR FAMILY (ESPECIALLY QUEEN’s CHILDREN).**
> 
>  
> 
> **We don’t want them feeling uncomfortable. And it's very rude and unflattering. So that’s all.**
> 
>  
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN for the support! I’ll try my best to update as fast as I can, because the next Chapter will be ‘tasty’ and more tea spilling (•̀o•́)ง
> 
> Kudos, especially comments are very much appreciated!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ====
> 
> “HOW MANY MORE GALILEOS DO YOU WANT?”


	8. Chapter 8

 

 **W** hen the mansion’s mistress said that it’ll be a big party, then do expect a _big_ party.

The air of festivity heavy in the air. Food and different kinds of alcohol being served nonstop. Music being skillfully played in the background. At least a hundred sharply dressed guests had joined the party that evening. And there are still _more_ arriving.

Brian felt as if he was dreaming. Just now he was laughing with _the_ Town Mayor after he was introduced by Mr. Edmund, then he was whisked away by another group of guests.

“You’re doing great, Brian,” before disappearing, Mr. Edmund clapped his back as he whispers to him with a smile. “Keep that charm rolling the whole night, alright?”

“Thank you. I will,” breathless, Brian smiled back. Everywhere and anyone he turn his eyes to screams glamorous. Even the servers.

He marches back inside the mansion. A rehearsed pleasant smile on his face as he passes by other guests. And they’re also smiling back at him. Acknowledging him. He is _someone_ tonight.  
The positive reaction that he got from the guests after them knowing he’s Clare’s tutor for multiple subjects really gives him boost of confidence. He’d gotten four business cards that are safely tucked inside his blazer’s pocket.

Only there’s a couple who had mistaken him as Mrs. Taylor’s current younger _boyfriend_ , before the proper introduction. _Jesus!_

“I apologize for assuming, sweetheart,” one of Mrs. Taylor’s friends said, clutching her pearls. “You’re just too charming and young to pass as Clare’s tutor.”

“But isn't he’s also _too_ _young_ to be Win’s boyfriend,” another middle-aged rich lady pointed out, who have a huge cut of emerald on her right pinky. “Isn’t he the same age as her oldest? Roger’s age?”

Then the lady watches her other friends over the rim of her drink with a smirk. “But sometimes, don’t we all want to _wish_ that we have a younger and charming boyfriend?”

A bit creeped out, Brian didn’t want to continue listening to them and politely excused himself.

His head starts buzzing, so he slowed down with the drinks even though he’s only on his second glass of scotch. His eyes hungrily searching for Roger. They got immediately separated when some of Roger’s and Clare’s Uncles and Aunts arrived.

The mansion’s young master looks _exceptionally_ gorgeous as he’s clothed with fine slim-fit gray three-piece suit double breasted waistcoat and fitted pants. Brian couldn’t take his eyes away from him. And he knows Roger is aware of it.

As Brian was just passing the way to the living room, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Mary, dear, come sit here on the couch. Where’s Professor Lovell?”

“Fred?” Brian had to make sure he isn’t imagining this. A wide smile spreads across his face.  
“Freddie!”

A quick gasp escaped his friend’s mouth before realizing it was him who called. “Brian!”

They both excitedly hugged each other tightly. Brian had just realized how much he missed his friend.

“Oh my God! Fred, I’ve missed you so much!” Brian’s laugh was almost breathless as he kissed the side of Freddie’s head, inhaling the sweet yet citrusy smell of his voluminous, long jet black hair. “Where’s Mary?”

“I’m here, Brian,” Freddie removes his arms around him so Mary can have her turn to hug him. “I’m so very happy to see you.”

Brian’s smile must’ve reached the back of his head now. “Same here. I’ve missed you both so much.”

Then he pulled his two friends into a warm group hug, almost tasting cloud nine right now.

“Am I not gonna get some hug from my favorite student?” Professor Lovell proudly smiles at him. Brian closes his eyes as he welcomes one of his favorite Professors, taking in the fatherly warmth that he truly craves.

“I’ve missed you, Professor.”

The scent of his perfume brought Brian back lots of memories, mostly about school: early morning rush to get in the tube, revising from late evenings till wee hours of the day just to make sure he’ll ace the exams. Three cups of coffee to survive the day, and celebrations at the nearest pubs around Imperial College. Those fun late nights with his other friends during summer vacations, jamming with kids who are aspiring musicians whilst getting their own degree. Him, Tim, and Freddie pretty much acting like rockstars whenever the pub they’ll be playing at will be fully packed with their peers and some older patrons. But ended up awkwardly dancing and flirting with girls (when he was still single and when he was being a _naughty_ boyfriend) after the show.

Professor Lovell cupped Brian’s cheek fondly, “I’ve heard lots of great feedbacks about you, child. And I’m so happy that I recommended you for this job.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Brian said, gratefully. “And thank you for trusting me.”

Just then Mr. Edmund reappeared and told his Professor that Mrs. Taylor wants to speak to him. Brian watches as Freddie helps their Professor to walk straight.

“Oh gosh! Are you alright, Sir?” Brian worriedly asked as he just noticed.

“I’m good, son,” Professor Lovell assured him. “Just a problem of gout on a wrong night.”

“See you in a bit,” says Freddie with a wink. “Have a chat with Mary—just don’t you dare kiss her!”

Brian sarcastically laughed while Mary just rolled her eyes with a smile. He then guides her to the unoccupied antique red-velvet chaise lounge near the living room’s grand piano to sit.

Mary was obviously at awe with the mansion, the party, the real affluent people that surrounds them (not like the pretentious ones who drops by the stall and acts as if they’re big bucks) that came from old-money, and everything. “Gosh! Brian, I was told that you’re currently living in a mansion, but I didn’t expect that it’s _this_ big! And this party…oh my God! What’s the occasion?”

To be truthful, Brian doesn’t really know what exactly they’re celebrating. So he just shrugged with a clueless smile. “How are you?”

“Very well. Thank you. Business been going well so far,” Mary smiled at him gently. “And how about you? I must say that you looked healthier—you looked like you’ve gained some weight. Which is literally good for you.”

Brian chuckles. “Well I did, didn’t I? Mind _telling_ that to my mother? So she’ll stop worrying about me not eating enough.”

“Oh! I will, Brian,” Mary promised. “The poor woman’s been worriedly-sick about you. And Mr. May, too.”

“Dad dropped by the stall?”

“Yeah, he did,” Mary takes a sip of her drink, eyes wandering at the other guests. “We kindly asked him to fix some lights and wirings at the stall. He’s the only one who always get the job done and don’t overcharge us. He mostly talk to Freddie though during his visits.”

“Oh… alright,” Then Brian remembered something,“By the way, how were you invited?”

“Me and Freddie weren’t exactly invited,” Mary explained. “It was a last two-minute call; Freddie was asked by the Professor to be accompanied here. While I was only dragged along so I can drive.”

“What about the Professor’s wife?”

“She isn’t feeling well either,” Mary told him, sadly. But then she beamed,“The Professor thought that this was a great chance for us to see you.”

“And I _am_ so happy. Thank you,” Brian pulled her again into a hug. Mary didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him. “We’ve truly missed you, Brian.”

“Do you think I’m a bit underdressed though?” Mary whispers to him, self-consciously. “Everyone here looks fabulous and glamorous.”

Brian gave her a once-over. She looked stunning in her silver strap dress. Brian assures her,“You looked perfect.”

Mary’s gray eyes crinkled as she slightly blushes. Brian smiled back, but didn’t read too much on it.

What he and Mary both had was already buried peacefully in the past. Before Chrissie, there was Mary. And it was only short-lived. Now she’s one of Brian’s closest friends, and is radiantly happy with Freddie. End of the story.

“I must say, Brian, you looked so great in your outfit,” Mary complimented back as her eyes studies the same ensemble that he wore the night the first time he arrived at the mansion, which was also Clare’s Homecoming party. Running her fingers against the accessories on his neck,“I like these layered necklace and the choker you're wearing...”

“Thank you. I still remember your fashion tips.”

“But—” Mary unbutton his shirt once more. “It’s better if you show more skin like this.”

“Brian...”

When he turned to the side, he saw Roger’s eyes danced between him and Mary. The blond heir’s brows furrowed at them.

Lips parting without a sound, Brian gently gestured Mary to stand up and introduces her, “Erm, Mary, this is Roger Taylor; my student’s older brother. Roger, this is Mary Austin; a friend of mine back home.”

“Pleasure, Mary,” Roger’s smile didn’t even reached his eyes when offered his hand for a handshake. Then he looked at Brian, “I didn’t know that Mum invited your friends here.”

“Oh! No! Not really,” Mary let out an odd, breathless, and a bit nervous laugh. “Our Professor —who recommended Brian— was the one who was invited. He needs some help to get here...”

“Well, you’re very welcome to this party, Mary,” Roger is smiling too sweetly this time. “I’m happy to finally meet one of Brian’s friends from Feltham. And a very beautiful one, _indeed_.”

“T-Thank you, R-Roger,” shyly pushing a lock of beige blonde hair behind her ear, Mary was obviously caught off-guard with the compliment. But Brian felt something different the way Roger’s talking and his aura right now.

“Hello! Hello! I’m back, dears,” Freddie glides between a couple of guests who are making their way to the dining area. “What did I miss?”

Roger whirled to face Freddie, while Freddie looked at Roger from head-to-toe. There was a long silence between the two, that Mary have to tugs on his sleeve. Obviously asking him what’s going on.

“Um, Roger this is—” Brian was about to introduced them, when they both shrieked like cats and hugged each other like long-lost friends.

“Roger!”

“Farrokh!”

“ _Farrokh_?” Brian and Mary chorused with extreme confusion in their faces.

“Oh my God! Mate!” Roger exclaimed happily. “I didn’t know you’re that ‘Freddie’!”

“You know each other?” Brian asked, but was ignored.

“I go by ‘Freddie’ now, Roger,” Freddie pokes Roger’s collarbone. “But God! I didn’t know that it was your family, dear!”

“We became friends when both our fathers took us on this same four-month cruise, almost five years ago,” finally, Roger explained, arm still around Freddie’s shoulder. “We clicked right away!”

“Well, that’s because we’re the youngest members of that cruise,” Freddie recalls the memory. “And we’re both bloody wicked and naughty!”

Roger smirks at him, “Remember when both of our Dads almost throwing us on the sea when we broke inside the nurses’ bedroom and knicked their panties?”

“ _Sorry?_ ” Mary turned to Freddie with a look.

“Oh! Shush, love,” Freddie playfully glared at Roger at the same time, snaking a hand on her waist. “That was years ago. I wasn’t even in England then.”

“I can’t believe that you actually know each other,” Brian mused. Really, such a small world they live in.

“By the way, where’s your father?” Freddie asked, looking around. “I was just briefly introduced to your mum.”

Brian bit his lower lip. Lowering his eyes, the smile on Roger’s lips faltered. “My dad... already passed away. Three years ago.”

Freddie gasped loud. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry for your loss, dear! I didn’t know..”

“Our condolences, Roger,” Mary told him.  
  
Forcing a smile, Roger shakes his head, “It’s alright. I’m still grieving but I’m trying my best to be stronger everyday.”

Brian smiled at him and reached out and pats Roger’s back gently, encouraging. Freddie pulled the blond heir again for a hug.

“Is there a way that we could catch up?” Freddie asked a minute later. “I know that you’re quite busy with the other guests.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have a catch up with Brian instead?” Roger pointed out, looking at him.

“ _Who’s_ Brian?” Freddie jokingly asked, earning a giggle from Mary.

Brian playfully hits him on his side,“Prat.”

“I’ll see you all later,” Roger promised, grinning. “Try not to get too drunk without me!”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

         

       “And so I told them, these are the flowers that you planted and taking care of,” Mr. Bennet narrated, gesturing the lilies and cabbage roses surrounding the Greenhouse.

Along with the mansion’s gardener, Brian is now talking to Mr. and Mrs. Waldorf; Mrs.Taylor’s business partners and longtime friends. He was summoned because the missis insisted to speak to him.  
So Brian had to leave his friends for a while, which they don’t mind.

“These are absolutely beautiful, Brian!” Mrs. Waldorf sighed wistfully. “It reminds me of the flowers planted outside the church’s garden during mine and my husband’s wedding.”

“ _Mi_ _amore_ , I was too dazzled by your beauty. I wasn’t even paying attention to the flowers,” Mr. Waldorf kissed his wife’s hand, the ruby of her ring shining against the moonlight.

“You’re both adorable,” Brian smiled at them sweetly. “I suddenly miss my parents.”

“Where are your parents, son?” asked Mr. Waldorf.

“Feltham, Sir.”

“Oh! You’re from Feltham?” Mrs. Waldorf’s green eyes widens. “I have relatives in Feltham too. My cousin owns half of High Street. I have some shops there too.”

“Perhaps, Brian’s mother goes to your shop, honey.”

“I think so, too.”

Brian played it safe by just beaming at them, even though his stomach is doing some weird flips.

If only both Freddie and Mary were there at that moment, they’ll surely freak out. Here, in front of him, were the owners of probably one — _or_ _some_ — of the biggest fashion stores in Kensington High Street.

As the night grows older and after talking to a handful of different people, Brian felt that the guests had somehow… got a wrong impression that he _also_ comes from a rich family. That they thought that this private tutor thing of his is just a like a summer job to kill time and earn money at the same time.

To solidify this wrong impression, a guest, who is also a successful restaurateur, told him, “That’s a good practice for _leadership_ , you know. I’ve actually had my sons trained in our restaurants and let them work there for a couple of months. Your parents are doing the correct thing, young man.”

“Yes, yes. Small jobs here and there before taking over the _company_. That’s what I did to my eldest,” another gentleman, an architect, agreed. “And you said your father is an Engineer, right, Brian? He must be well-known in Feltham.”  
  
“Well from Feltham to Cornwall it must be a big adjustment for you; as you’re out of your _normal_ comfort zone,” this time, a gentlemen who owns a toy company spoke. “But being out of your comfort zone as a young future business man is going to be a rewarding experience, child. Take that from me.”

Brian doesn’t know how to start explaining that he’s _not_ who they think he is. That he’s not a son of a wealthy engineer that owns companies in Feltham, nor his mother is some fancy wife who shops around in High Street and wears pastel and chunky pearls on her neck.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Mr. Tony cleared his throat behind him. “May I borrow Mr. Brian for a bit? A young lady would want to speak to him.”

The older men gives nods of approval and thumbs up and a good pat on the shoulder. “Go on and get her, champ!”

Brian politely excused himself with a smile. While following Mr. Tony, Brian asked, “Is Clare looking for me?”

“She was,” Mr. Tony answered. “But she’s with her friends, so she’ll be fine.”

“So who is it then? Mary?”

A girl who is sitting on one of the porch’s chairs came into view. Along with her is young brunette who excused herself quickly once she noticed that they’re approaching them.

“Mr. Brian, this is Ms. Pandora Hickman,” the mansion’s butler starts the introduction. “Ms. Pandora, this is Mr. Brian May; your cousin’s tutor.”

 _Roger_   _and Clare’s cousin?_

“Pleasure to meet you,” Brian offered his hand for a handshake which she gladly took. Her hand very soft. “Just call me Brian.”

With her long blonde big ringlets, bright blue eyes and pink bow lips, Brian thinks that this is probably what Clare would look like once she’s grown.

“Pleasure to meet you, too, Brian,” said Pandora. “I’m Pandora.”

Mr. Tony quietly excused himself and leave them.

“Well, let’s have a seat, Brian,” Pandora gestured the empty chair next to hers. So he did, after she sat down. “So… you’re Clare’s tutor.”

“You’ve heard that right,” wondering why he was called by her, Brian offered her a small smile. “Um… I’m not sure why I was called, but I believe we haven’t formally met.”

Pandora rests her chin on her hand while her elbow on the chair’s armrest. “No. We haven’t. That’s why I have to specifically _asked_ for you, Brian.”

“Sorry…?”

“How old are you, Brian?” Pandora suddenly asked.

“Twenty-one.”

“Hmm…” Pandora hums, she takes her drink and watches him over the rim. “You’re just a year older than me then.”

 _Is_ _she_ … _?_

“Right,” Brian is starting to feel uncomfortable. “Is there something that you want to ask me, or tell me, Pandora?”

Pandora studies his face with a mysterious glint on her eyes. “Are you really Aunt Win’s boyfriend?”

_Arrggh! That fucking question again!_

Brian heard himself sigh. “No, Pandora. I am not.”

“Then...are you single?” following up with another question, Pandora smirks at him.

“Yes,” Brian answered shortly. Not really liking the aura he’s getting from her, “Pandora, I don’t want to be rude… but I don’t really understand why you asked for me.”

“Oh my God! Brian,” Pandora giggled. “Should I spell it out for you? The reason why I asked for you is for me to have an _alone_ time with you.”

Brian do know that she is actually flirting with him, but it’s rubbing him the wrong way. “Why me?”

“Why you, you say?” holding him on the forearm, Pandora gaze at him sultrily. “Simple. You’re my type. I’ve been watching you for _two_ hours now, just incase you didn’t noticed.”

Brian snorted sarcastically. There’s no way this girl is hitting on him for real. “You’re joking right? Is this some kind of prank?”

“What? No!” Pandora frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Look, Pandora, it’s really nice to meet you,” Brian stood up from the chair. “But I gotta go.”

“No, Brian! You just got here!” Pandora insisted. “And I am not joking nor pranking you!”

She’s holding on his wrist now. “Please. Brian. Stay.”

Letting out a calming breath, Brian sank back to the seat again. He does not want to make a scene.

After a long period of silence between them, Pandora sighs sharply. “I’m sorry, Brian. I know I’m totally acting like a brat.”

Brian didn’t anything. His eyes fixated on the porch’s glass table.

“You see…” Pandora sighed yet again. “When you were talking to my Dad, I thought he’ll come over and introduce me to you. But he didn’t. So I’ve been waiting for my turn for a couple of hours now.”

Brian senses that she’s telling the truth. “And that’s why you asked Mr. Tony to call me.”

Letting out an exhale full of relief, she said, “Yes. I thought I’d never had a chance on talking to you.”

“Why do you have such an interest in me?” Brian asked, curious and doubtful. _Really_ , _why?_ She’s a very beautiful young woman, while he’s average looking. “There’s obviously lots of blokes around our age group in this party right now who are more… interesting to look at.”

Pandora laughs softly, showing perfect set of teeth. “Are you joking? Half of the young boys here are my _relatives_ , Brian. My cousins and uncles. And the rest are just— _blegh!_ I’ve known them since I’m little.”

“So, me, being the ‘new boy’ caught your interest. Right?”

“Bingo,” Pandora raised her brow with a smile. “Plus, you’re really charming. It’s rare to see my Dad laugh and have a lengthy conversation with a young boy like you whom he just met.”

“I’m very flattered, Pandora, but—”

“But I’m not you’re type…? You think I’m not pretty enough…?” she interrupted.

“No,” Brian shakes his head. “It’s not like that. You’re stunning. Even I couldn’t believe that you just said that you find me interesting amongst t—”

Brian’s explanation was cut short when Pandora grabbed on his blazer’s lapels and silence him with a kiss.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

       Cheeks hurting already from smiling too much, Roger starts massaging his face. It’s been a while since he had made an appearance to this kind of party and it’s starting to drain him more every minute passes. His relatives —mostly from his mother’s side— were so excited to see him again. Some old family friends. His parents’ business partners. His parents’ friends. Some of his Mom’s ex-flings…

“Sleepy, sweetheart?” Mrs. Taylor massages his shoulder that made him more tensed up. Even with a party full of elegenatly dressed women, his mother’s beauty never fails to stand out.

Roger removed her hands. “When is Pops and Nan arriving? It’s getting late.”

“They should be here anytime soon,” it was Mr. Edmund who answered. “There was just a tiny problem they’ve encountered.”

“What?” Roger rolled his eyes darkly. “Did they found out that the Potgieter girl was an actual slag?”

“Roger, that is _not_ funny,” Mrs. Taylor shushed him with a fake smile plastered on her face. “Where’s your sister, by the way?”

“I don’t know,” yawning, Roger’s eyes are searching for Brian.

His mother must’ve really trust Brian so much to let him freely mingle with other guests. While Clare’s other tutors, who were also invited, are currently inside the mansion and stuck with the same people. Checking his Patek Philippe wrist watch that his grandparents gifted him for his 15th birthday, it says that it’s past eleven.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Roger told his mother before he slips away. Before his mother could protest, one of her business partners called her and starts a conversation.

After taking a piss and while washing his hands on the first floor’s guest bathroom sink, Roger stared back at his reflection with the gorgeous huge and wide rustic mirror. 

This year, he’ll be turning twenty. Yet he haven’t started College. He doesn’t even know what degree he would want to get in the first place. But he would want to see himself graduate. It’s not just for his parents, or grandparents. Its for his own pride. But he doesn’t know how and when to start. He’s been a bum for almost three years now. Roger’s so used on being stuck inside his bedroom. He thinks it would be better if he’ll ask for Brian’s opinion.

 _Brian_ … Roger couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he remembers Brian’s reaction when he saw him all dressed-up in his Gucci suit. It looks like the tutor has been star-struck. Dropping Clare’s hand, his hazel eyes wide and was grinning at him. Not being vain, but Roger felt as if he’s the most beautiful creature in Brian’s eyes that moment. And he loved it. Roger could only wish that he could kiss Brian then and there, and tell the tutor how gorgeous he is as he self-consciously fiddles on his clothes and his hair.  
  
Just then, the tutor himself, bolted inside the bathroom, making Roger jump. “Jesus! Brian, you scared me!”

Brian’s face was flushed. Hand quickly turning on the tap and splashes his face and mouth. Roger kindly handed him a clean rolled-up face towel to dry his face. “You okay?”

“No…”

At the same time, a familiar female voice from outside called. “Brian! I’m sorry! Please come out!”

_Pandora?_

Roger walked out the bathroom and found his cousin outside. “Hey, Pandora…”

“Hi, Roger,” just like Brian, Pandora’s face was a bit flushed while her brows furrowed with her arms crossed. “Mind calling Brian for me, please?”

“Why?” Roger eyed his cousin curiously.

“ _Please?_ ” Pandora demanded.

Roger doesn’t really understand what’s going on. But then he comes back inside and found Brian sitting on the top of the sink. Head and back resting against the wall, looking exhausted. “She wants to speak to you.”

“No, Roger, please,”Brian pleads. “Can you make her leave for a bit?”

Roger felt that there’s something wrong going on. Did Pandora insulted Brian or something?

“I’m going to ask her to leave,” said Roger. “But I want you to tell me what’s going on between the two of you.”

Just as he’s about to step outside, he heard Pandora’s loud irritated sigh and her heels clicking as she walks away. Brian’s hand gripping on the damp face towel, chewing on his lower lip. Roger have never seen him looking bothered like that. “What happened, Brian?”

Tense silence hangs above them. Then Brian starts to narrate, “She told me… vicious things about you and your family.”

“What?”

“She said I should not act as if I’m special. You _only_ got me because you couldn’t get any other tutors in Cornwall since your family been blacklisted by many Tutoring Agencies…”

_Just how much was said?_

“And…?” Roger knew that Brian was of course fucking offended with that.

“…She kissed me…” Brian looks like he’s about to cry, and going to be sick at the same time.

Roger felt as if he went braindead for a minute. His body becomes cold. “She kissed you?”

Gathering his knees to his chest, Brian nodded meekly, “And when I told her to stop, she started saying I should not act as if I’m special— because I’m _not_. Then she accused me of being your mum’s secret boy toy.”

Anger raising to his chest, Roger could feel something burning inside him!

“God! I was so mad, Roger! I would really want to hurt her and call her names!”

Pandora might be one his and Clare’s favorite female cousins, even though she’s a bit bitchy and manipulative sometimes, but he wont let this pass. Especially, after kissing Brian without his consent. She’s the type of person who would really grab onto something once she finds it or the person interesting, and would fight her way to get it. Whether she have to play dirty. No wonder she’s their Grandfather’s favorite great-niece.

“Roger…” Brian looks at him, teary. “She’s lying, right? I mean, I think she only said those things because I refused to her advances, and I think she’s already a bit drunk.”

Eyes shutting, Roger regrets the fact that they’re talking about _those_ things, when they’re supposed to be having fun right now and catching up with Freddie.  
And _he_ should be the one kissing Brian under the stars. Not that fucking thirsty bitch Pandora!

Brian hoist himself off the sink and takes a hold of him.

“Forget about what Pandora said, Brian,” murmuring, Roger hugs him tight. “Recently, you’re the best thing that happened to our family. Mum said that you’re a blessing.”

“Really…?” Brian sniffed.

“Yes,” Roger gently runs his fingers against the taller boy’s curls. “Can’t you see it? Business has been exceptionally well since you’ve arrived. Clare’s grades has become better and finds interest with her studies again. Mum and Clare getting closer. And me… finding someone who I can call a ‘friend’…”

“God…stop…” Brian groaned as he laughs shakily. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You deserve to know all of these, idiot,” Roger pointed out, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Sometimes, you’re just so insecure and overthinks.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Brian…you have nothing to apologize...” _Except_ _for_ _making_ _me_ _like_ _you_ _so_ _fucking_ _bad_ …

“I’m so— oh… sorry…” Brian softly laughs.

“Brian, stop it…”

Then, they both became quiet for a while. But it was nothing but comfortable silence. Roger’s actually feeling contented with Brian in his arms as he comforts him. And when Brian finally pulls back, he swallowed a bitter taste inside his mouth.

Roger jolts when Brian suddenly leans in. Holding his breath, Brian’s eyes scanned his face.

“You have a fallen eyelash…” Brian is surely picking something on Roger left cheek with his pointer finger and thumb.

Eyes twinkling, just like a child, Roger told him excitedly, “Place it on the tip of my nose. Quick! I’ll make a wish.”

Brian did what he was told. “There.”

Roger closes his eyes. There’s only one thing in his mind: _a_ _sweet_ , _full_ _kiss_ _from_ _Brian_ _May_ _please!_  
Then he huffs and blows it off. “Is it gone?”

“Yeah,” Brian inspects his face again. Then smirks at him, “What did you wish for?”

“You know you’re not suppose to tell your wish, or else it ought not to happen.”

Brian chuckles as he pulls him back again for another tight hug. “Thank you for being here with me, Roger.”

Roger could feel Brian’s lips slightly brushing on his forehead. Brian is so painfully touchy today, it’s almost like torture.

They were on that position when Mr. Edmund comes rushing in. “Oh! There you are, Roger!”  
His mother’s assistant didn’t seem to bother his and Brian’s closeness when he hastily announces, “Let’s go! Your Grandfather is here.”

All Roger remember was dragging Brian to follow him. Just as what Mrs. Taylor told him a week before, Roger found his Grandfather talking to a unfamiliar blonde girl who is next to his mother.

“Is that her?” he heard Brian whispers. Roger didn’t answer and swallowed the nervous lump that had formed his throat while they were trailing Mr. Edmund.

“There he is!” Mrs. Taylor beamed at them. “And he’s with Brian. Perfect timing.”

Mr. Arthur Hickman’s blue eyes studies Roger, as he silently approaches him. “Roger,” he spreads his arms for a hug.

How long has it been since Roger had seen his Grandfather? A year and some months? A year and a half? Two years almost?

This man didn’t even bother visiting him when he was still in the hospital nor when he was sent to that Rehabilitation Centre. And once he came back to the mansion and a bit better, his Grandfather gave him an hour and a half lecture as a welcoming gift.  
  
Setting aside his anger and pride, Roger steps forward and gives him a hug. His grandfather still wears his staple scent: a hint of fresh tobacco and Chanel _Pour_ _Monsieur_ cologne.  
Roger _loved_ his grandfather’s smell, so damn much, that back when he was still an ignorant daft little brat, he asked his father if it’s possible for Mr. Taylor to have the same scent (although, Roger also loved the scent of Mr. Taylor’s Vetiver by Guerlain) not knowing how uncomfortable it was for his dad.

Roger’s relationship with his Grandfather only got strained after his father passed. They used to be so close. Even his mother agreed that Mr. Hickman dotes on him and Clare more than he did with her, growing up.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Roger,” Mr. Hickman sighed against the side of his head. “You look so well.”

Couldn’t find any word to say, he just forced himself a tight smile as he steps back. Then his Grandfather’s eyes moves to Brian. “Ah! Good evening, young man. I’m Mr. Arthur Hickman.”

“Brian May, sir,” smiling, Brian accepts the handshake. “I’m one of Clare’s tutors.”

“Yes,” Mr. Hickman smiled back. But to Roger’s eyes, it looks very calculated. “I’ve heard so many _good_ things about you.”

“Oh! Thank you,” pleased, Brian smiled broadly. “It’s my pleasure, sir.”

Then Mr. Hickman proceeds by introducing the girl with him. Roger braces himself. Here we go again…

“Sarina’s been delighted to be finally introduced to you, Roger,” Mr. Hickman turned to her with a fond smile.

How old is she? Seventeen? Sixteen? She looks so young.

“Why don’t the two of you talk in private?” Mr. Hickman suggested to Roger. “I have to speak to your mother first.”

When Brian politely excused himself, Roger wishes he could ask him to stay. But the girl was trailing behind him like a lost puppy. So Roger doesn’t have any choice but to entertain her for a bit. Turned out, she wasn’t that bad. Sarina’s actually pretty funny, and mostly friends with most of his cousins and some of his old friend’s younger siblings.  
Just as he was starting to enjoy her company, Roger spotted Pandora talking to her father. They were only five feet away from them. And even though he couldn’t hear their conversation, Roger could see the frown on his Uncle’s face, making an impression that there’s an argument that is happening.  
After waiting for the right moment, Roger excused himself for a bit and sauntered to Pandora once she’s alone.

“Hey, Pandora,” Roger flashed her a faux smile. Pandora’s scowl drops, “Uh… hey, Roger.”

“You seem irritated,” eyebrow raised, he studies his cousin’s face over the rim of his glass. “You fighting with Uncle?”

Pandora grabs her own drink and takes a tentative sip. Rolling her eyes, she says, “He won’t fix me up with Brian.”

_Are you fucking kidding me?!_

“Brian? Like _our_ Brian?” Roger feigned innocence. “Clare’s tutor?”

“Yes, Roger,” said Pandora. Then she also raised her brow, “It’s funny when you said ‘your Brian’. He’s Clare tutor. But he isn’t yours.”

 _Well_ _neither he’s yours, bitch!_

“Anyway, how are you?” Roger tried to change the topic before he could deck her. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“Fine. Good. About to graduate next year,” answering half-heartedly, Pandora looks around. “Have you seen Brian?”

Sighing, Roger takes her drink. “What do you _want_ , Pandora?”

She looked at him meaningfully and says,“ _You_ know what I want, Roger.”

_Good Lord! She's gotten worse..._

“Oh! Why don’t you fix me up with Brian then?” Pandora’s eyes becomes doe-y. Roger is not going to fall for that trick anymore. “Please? Roger? We’re still very close, right?”

“I’m sorry, Pandora,” Roger is not sorry. “Not everything you wanted in this world will be handed to you in a silver platter.”

“Really, Roger?” scoffing, his cousin painfully grabs on his arm, she pulled him close and leans in.  
“Is that what they told you… when you were locked up on that mental facility for the lunatics and addicts?”

A cold coarse run through his spine. _How on earth did she know?_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pandora,” Roger’s heartbeat starts to race, he tried to smoothly lie through his teeth.

“Oh…of course, you know what I’m talking about,” Pandora’s sly smile pressing on his cheek.

“Pandora, I can’t believe you’re acting like this over a bloke that you’ve just met,” hissing, Roger eye’s narrowed.

As if the words knocked some sense on Pandora, her body’s aura softens. Then she made a sharp exhale. “My dad withdrew my engagement with the Perrson’s son—”

“And you thought that Brian would be the perfect rebound fiancé?” Roger sputtered.

“No! Yes!... I mean… _yes_! I’m interested in him! He’s charming and he seems to be a nice person too! And most importantly he’s part of our circle—”

“Pandora, listen to me—” hastily, Roger cups her face to make her to look to him in the eyes, before he unkindly breaks it to her. Pandora got it all wrong!  
“Brian didn’t come from a rich family. Did he said himself that he’s rich?”

“N-No…” Pandora looks at Roger quizzically. “I’ve overheard it from some guests …and from Dad that he’s a son of a rich Engineer…”

“It seems that there’s quite a misunderstanding here…”

Pandora went quiet for a moment. Then she close her eyes and slowly inhaled. “Oh, Roger… I know _what_ you’re doing…”

“Sorry…?”

“You’re supporting them… Brian’s relationship with your mother…”

“Excuse me!?” Roger almost wanting to slap her. “Pandora, you really need to slow down with the drinks! You’re making no sense now!”

“You’re disgusting, Roger,” Pandora sneered.

“And you’re a fucking obnoxious bitch—”

It happened in a blink of an eye. There’s martini on his left side of his face, his neck and his blazer.

“Oh! Roger! Be careful!” a faux shrill escaped Pandora’s mouth. Before she leaves on that spot, she whispered something to Roger. “This is not over yet, dear cousin.”

Roger didn’t wait for the maid to hand him a towel. If he stays there, he’s going to explode!

His feet quickly walks away, avoided eye-contact and ignoring the guests calling his name. He takes the mansion’s backdoor and heads to the staircase.  
It was a quick glimpse: the living room full of guests as they listen to Freddie as sings along with the piano at the same time cracking some jokes in between. He’ll just search for Brian later.

As he reached the third floor, he saw his sister as she frantically phasing back and forth the hall.  
“Clare?”

Drenched, Clare looks like she had a swim on the indoor pool with her party dress on. “ _Qu'est_ _qui_ _s'est_ _passé?_ You’re soaking wet!”

“Roger, I need your help!” Clare immediately burst into tears. “I lost my locket on the pool when I fell!”

“What? Shit!” then Roger tries to calm her down. “Don’t worry, Clare. We’ll ask a maid to help us find it.”

“No!” Clare protested. “If Mum finds out that I lost it, she’ll surely take my locket back!”

“But—”

“Please, Roger?” practically sobbing on his chest, Clare clings to him.

Exasperated, Roger nods as he pats her wet head. He can understand Clare’s worries. He did had the same feeling when he lost his own locket a couple of months ago, and Brian was the one who found it.

Of course, they’re both holding on to those lockets as their most important treasure. There’s only two of them in the world: a golden locket for Roger and a white-gold locket for Clare. Its unique design by their parents, just for the two of them.

“Okay. Let’s go,” says Roger, consoling his sister still. “Stop crying now, alright?”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

       After a couple of hours, the party starts to finally slow down. Some guests starts leaving. Brian was on his way back to the mansion when the previous brunette girl with Pandora, called his name.

“May I help you?”

“Yes,” the brunette answered. “I’m looking for Roger.”

“I was with him a while ago. But I’m not sure where he is now,” Brian stares at her and couldn’t help to remember a softer, seventeen-year-old version of Sophia Loren, dressed in a black evening slip dress. “If I happen to find him, I can tell him that you’re looking for him.”

“Right. Thank you,” she smiles at him. “By the way, I’m Dominique.”

“Brian,” he smiled back. Noting her tiny hint of French accent. “Are you a friend of Roger’s?”

“Erm… yeah…” Dominique averts her eyes. “And his ex-fiancée…”

Brian’s breathing hitched. Of course. Roger had already set his expectation beforehand. “Nice to meet you, Dominique.”

“Excuse me,” another female voice comes behind him. When Brian turns, a pretty blonde clad in a hot-pink bodycon dress was already looking back him. “Pardon me. I’m looking for Roger.”

Brian imagines if he suddenly grown a ‘Lost and Found’ sign on his forehead.

“Oh! Hi, Debbie,” Dominque greeted the other girl. “It’s been a while.”

Brian’s eyes dances between probably the two of the most beautiful (and rich) teenage girls he’d seen up-close in his entire life.

“Um, Debbie, this is Brian,” Dominique takes the initiative on introducing them, after they gave each other a kiss on the cheek.

“I know who he is,” Debbie just looks like a living Barbie doll, especially with her long legs. “You’re Clare’s tutor, right?”

“Yes. I am.”

“You’re quite the talk-of-the-town tonight, Mr. Brian,” Debbie smiles at him, a bit mysteriously.  
Brian hoped that she’s not referring to other guests mistaking him as Mrs. Taylor’s boyfriend. “The new charming golden boy of the Taylor household.”

“Um… I don’t think so,” Brian disagreed with an uneasy smile, making Debbie chuckle. “Apologies if I can’t tell you where’s Roger is right now.”

“It’s okay, Brian,” Dominique smiles at him. Then Debbie adds,“Sorry if the pair of the ex-fiancée’s decides to corner you at the same time,” rolling her emerald eyes. “It’s been _years_ since the last time we’ve seen him.”

“Years?” Brian asked curiously. He remembers Roger saying his ex-fiancées being cut off once the engagement was called off. But he didn’t expect that it would be like this.

“Well… um, we’ve lost touch after Mr. Taylor died,” uncomfortable, Dominique tried to keep her voice down. “He won’t answer my calls anymore.”

“He did the same to me, you know,” Debbie gnaws on her lower lip. “And I thought he hated me, as I wasn’t able to attend the funeral because, you know, I was stuck in boarding school.”

“My father also didn’t allow me to see him afterwards. He said that Roger’s in a bad shape.”  
Then as if she said too much, Dominique grabs on Debbie’s arm and says,“W-Why don’t we look for Roger ourselves, Deb? We’ve taken too much of Brian’s time.”

“It’s okay,” Brian smiled tightly at them. “It’s really nice to meet you both.”

Then with a parting smile, the two of Roger’s young ex-fiancées left.

Once he he had reached the main living room, Freddie’s one-night-only private concert in the Taylor’s mansion had come to an end with an encore from Simon and Garfunkel.

“God! This is such a big house,” Freddie looks amused as he follows Brian to his bedroom. Brian had offered Mary to take a quick shuteye there as it’ll be a long drive, while her boyfriend volunteered to entertain the other guests. Once they’ve reached Brian’s bedroom and turned on the lights, Freddie gasped,“Oh! Darling, you’ve got to be fucking _kidding_ me! This is a suite!”

“Shhh… quiet now,” Brian lightly nudges Freddie on his side. Although he’s enjoying the sight of Freddie’s reaction. “Mary’s still asleep.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here now. To wake her up,” Freddie sarcastically points out. “Wake up, my sleeping beauty!”

So Freddie, being Freddie, waltz towards the bed and loudly gives the sleeping Mary a smooch on the lips. Mary groaned as she opens an eye. “What? Is it time to go now?”

Freddie caress her hair. “Yes, my love. And Professor have a class tomorrow, remember?”

“Oh, right,” still looking half-asleep, Mary sits up as she yawns. “I’m just gonna use the loo.”

“We’ve got you some coffee here,” Brian places the cup on the bedside table near his alarm clock. Then he turns to Freddie, “You wanna go to the veranda?”

Freddie beamed at him. So then he leads him again to the veranda, keeping the door ajar, so Mary can follow them. Freddie lights a cigarette once they both settled after taking a sip of his own coffee. “You’re definitely living the life, Professor May.”

“It’s not forever though,” Brian looks up to the sky. Mind swimming with lots of things, Roger one of them.

“Well enjoy it while you’re here,” and even in the dark, Freddie’s naughty expression still shines through. “Have you shagged any maids yet?”

“Jesus— Freddie! No!”

“…or… perhaps the mistress?”

“I’m not in a relationship with Mrs. Taylor,” firmly, Brian denied the accusation the nth time that night.

Freddie dramatically gasped. “Don’t tell me you have hots with Cl— ”

“Another word from you, Fred, and I will you throw you on the bloody garden,” Brian warned before his friend could finish what he was about to say. Freddie just laughs at him.

“Then how about the pretty blonde I saw you kissing on the porch?” Mary joins them, a smile on her lips just above the rim of her coffee cup. “She seems too eager to shove her tongue down your throat, though.”

“Oh… Pandora?” Brian’s heart sank. It makes it more bad that Mary had seen them. “She’s Roger’s cousin. She was quite intoxicated.”

“Brian becomes the new accidental ‘it boy’…”

“And you became the star of the night, Fred.”

“It would be better if you’re there with the Red,” says Freddie with a sigh. “Could’ve been more epic when you tell them about it’s story.”

“Have you talked to Roger again?” Brian asked after a few. Freddie shakes his head, “Couldn’t manage to get a hold of him, darling. Both of you actually.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize that playing a sub-host would be this tiring.”

“You’re a natural,” Mary complimented him as she takes her own stick. “They obviously liked you.”

“They do,” Freddie agreed. “Although it seems that there’s some misunderstanding, darling.”

Freddie then proceeds to explain that the guests mistaken that Brian came from rich family. Making him completely correct about his previous haunch. They were in the middle of the most awaited catch-up conversation when the fireworks were lit.

Brian had to look away when Freddie kisses Mary and enjoy the beautiful the sight above. The booming sound of the fireworks blocked Clare’s scream as she bolts through the door.  
“BRIAN!”

“Clare! What happened!?” Brian shrieked, knocking the table as he immediately stood up. She looks like a drenched ghost.

“R-Roger!” Clare could barely stand and was shaking so bad when Brian rushed into her side. “Roger’s drowning! Help me!”

Everything that follow seems like a blur. Brian’s body acting on it’s own. He could hear Freddie telling Mary to take care of Clare as they both raced to the mansion’s indoor pool on the same floor. The hallways are spookily empty. Brian’s legs wobbles when he saw Roger’s immobile body floating, face down the water. Then reality hits him. If he won’t act fast, he’ll loose Roger.

The next thing he knew was they were all rushed to the hospital. Brian pulled an Herculean effort to save Roger from drowning. Very thankful that he had lifeguard training, last year, when he did a part-time job at a local pool. Brian could feel the blood rush through his ears as he performs CPR. Roger’s heartbeat was faint and is unconscious. Tears mixed with droplets of water run down his face, trying his best to collect himself even though his whole being is shaking in fear.

“Please, Roger, wake up!” Brian begged, voice hoarse. “Lord, please!”

Then a whimper. Little choking coughs. After some few agonizing minutes of resuscitation, Roger finally pulled through. Water spluttered from the heir’s mouth and his nostrils. Roger started breathing on his own again but is very weak.

Brian rested his head against the walls of the private hospital. Freddie was sitting next to him as support. The nurse who checked up on him thirty minutes ago came back with a smile. “Feeling better, dear?”

Nodding his head, Brian asked, “How’s my friend? Roger?”

“The Taylor child? He’s fine,” the nurse confirmed. “You’ve done a great job saving him.”

With those words, Brian bursted into tears of relief. The nurse wrapped him with another clean dry towel as she smoothens his back. “Hush, hush, now sweetheart. He’s safe now.”

“I was so afraid!” Brian cried. Freddie didn’t hesitate on wrapping his arms around him.“I thought I’m going to loose him!”

“No. He’s okay now, dear,” the nurse told him, her voice very motherly. “Your friend just need a rest. That’s all.”

“Roger’s fine now, Brian,” Freddie echoed what the nurse said. “He’s fine. And you need some rest too, alright?”

“How about you and Mary? And the Professor?”

“They have to go first without me,” Freddie told him. “Mrs. Taylor told me that her chauffeur will just drive me home tomorrow morning.”

Roger’s alive, his mother and sister by his side. And Freddie is here right now. Brian couldn’t be more thankful and utter a silent prayer. His wet clothes sticks uncomfortably to his skin. And also to Freddie’s, but he’s not complaining. Physically and emotionally exhausted, Brian’s eyelids starts dropping.

“Thank you for saving him, Brian,” just before he totally fell asleep, Brian felt Freddie’s warm lips on his forehead. Freddie said more things before everything turns pitch black, and Brian was already beyond his reach.

 

 ~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

        A week later, Roger was lock in a tight embrace with his sister. Aside from her usual bedtime routine, after Brian read her bedtime story, she _needs_ to give him a bear hug and reminds him that she loves him. Poor Clare is still feeling guilty of what happened even though it wasn’t her fault that he drowned. It was an accident.

And he should’ve been honest with her that he still couldn’t swim properly. Ironic, since they’ve had that indoor swimming pool long before he was even born. He couldn’t really get over his fear of drowning.

His mother also been religiously checking up on him before bedtime. Mrs. Taylor cancelled all of her business meetings and trips just to nurse and watch Roger like a hawk. The next night after the incident, Roger woke up in the middle of the night and found his mother curled up on his bedroom’s sofa, fast asleep. Her face full of worries and fear. And when she stirred, Roger pretends that he’s asleep. He felt his mother’s presence near his bed and reaches out to stroke his hair. A quiet sob escaped her mouth. Roger heard his mother saying how she loves him and Clare, and how she wishes that their father is still alive because it’s been so hard without him.

One thing that he realized after what happened: Roger still have the desire to live. He have so many reasons to live. He’s been pushing people away, that he wasn’t able to see their genuine love and care for him. He got so blinded with anger and self-pity that he had forgotten that it wasn’t only him who had lost a loved one. A wife lost her husband, and a daughter lost her father.

“Hey… why are you crying?” worriedly, Clare wipes his tears.

“I’m just thinking about things,” Roger takes her hands and kisses the back of them. “I’m sorry for being selfish, Clare.”

“I don’t understand…?”

“It’s okay. I’m just feeling a bit overemotional,” Roger explained with a sad smile. “Go to sleep now.”

For the second time that night his sister says, “Good night. _Je_ _t’aime_.”

“ _Je_ _t'aime_ _aussi_ , _ma_ _petite_ _princess_ ,” Roger kisses the crown of her head. Then he went and visit his mother on her office. Mrs. Taylor’s both hands on each side of her head; piles of documents on her desk.

“Goodnight, mum,” Roger stood awkwardly by the doorway. With the sound of his voice, Mrs. Taylor perks up and calls him to come inside.

“Is Clare asleep?” Mrs. Taylor asks as she holds him close, kissing his head.

“Yeah…”

“Then go and have some rest now, dear,” giving him a tight hug, Roger returned the gesture for the first time that it wasn’t feeling forced. His mother let out a whimper. The words ‘I love you’ almost sounding inaudible.

Once he’s back on his bedroom and had settled down on his bed, Roger takes his Herbert book again. Just three more chapters remaining. He thinks he can finish it tonight. Just as he was about to flip to the next page, he heard someone knocking.

“Roger?” It was Brian. “You still awake?”

Automatically, Roger almost leaps towards the door to unlock it. Taking in Brian’s pyjama’s and pillow on his arms, Roger lets him in.

Rubbing his hands together, Brian seems as if he’s thinking on what to say. Then he decides with, “I can’t sleep…”

Roger just nods with a small smile, understanding. Tonight is the second night that Brian’s gonna crash in. Brian was already climbing on Roger’s bed as he locks the door.

“You know, if you want to sleep with me, just say so,” Roger jokingly teases the older boy, who froze with his words. “Brian, I’m just kidding, mate.”

Brian playfully glares at him as he tucks himself in. “So are you gonna sleep with me or not?”

“Is that an invitation?” saucily raising his brow, Roger mirrors his smirk. _Oh! This is a dangerous game we’re playing love_ … “Or an order?”

Roger didn’t get a reply. So he gingerly dove under the sheets, as Brian takes his book on the top of his pillow. “Want me to read you a bed time story, your highness?”

Wriggling as he arranges himself comfortably close to Brian, Roger says, “Shouldn’t _I_ read you the story since you’re the one having trouble sleeping?”

“But I’m a better story teller,” Brian argues, pouting adorably as he flips the pages. Roger points which page he is currently is. And with a clear and soothing voice, Brian starts reading the remaining pages.

Eyes close but very much awake, his senses heightens. Roger’s head starts to swim. The warmth emanating from Brian’s body is very comforting, just like the soft hums of the crickets outside. The clean smell of Brian’s clothes and skin filling his nasal passages. He could hear his heartbeat starts to pound.

This is a sweet compensation from last night; Brian was quickly knocked out that they weren’t able to have a moment like this.

Every word, pause, and exclamation, Roger’s picturing the images in his mind. As if he’s transported to another world, with only Brian’s voice as his guide. Once the adventure has finally ended, Roger dumbly clapped his hands, earning a laugh from Brian.  
After placing the book on his bedside table, Brian said something out-of-the-blue, “Have I told you that I’ve met your ex-fiancees at the party? Dominique and Debbie.”

Taking a peek of him, Roger says, “Really? What do you think about them?”

“They’re both stunning,” letting out an exhale, Brian props himself up and rests his head on his hand. “And they’re quite nice, even though we didn’t talked that much.”

“Dominique is a daughter of a French ambassador while her mother is a socialite. She’s an aspiring actress,” Roger explains. “Debbie, on the other hand, came from a family of well-known artists. She also do artworks while she models locally and internationally.”

“Of course, they should be more than a pretty face,” as if Brian’s words is for himself. “A real-life modern Princess fit for a real-life modern Prince.”

Looking up to Brian, his hazel gaze resting on Roger’s hair that’s fanned out on the pillows.

“And what do you think of Pandora?” boldly, Roger finally asked. “I find it odd that you refused her advances. Is she… not your type?”

Brian groaned and scowls. “She’s _too_ gorgeous. If ever I met her in Feltham, I would think that there’s something wrong with her eyes.”

“You think she’s way too out-of-your league?”

“Mmm-hmm…”

Roger refrain himself from rolling his eyes. Here goes the insecure and self-conscious Brian again. “Do you _not_ ever look yourself in the mirror?”

“What do you mean?”

“Not being weird, Brian—” Roger tries to be cautious with his words or else he’ll expose himself right now. “But you’re gorgeous. And you’re quite charming.”

“Yeah… _sure_. Thank you, mate,” voice laced with sarcasm, Brian rolled his eyes. “Me and my poodle curls.”

“I am serious,” Roger insisted. “And I just don’t bloody tell other blokes that they’re good looking, you know.”

Sighing, Brian quietly apologizes to him. God! Roger doesn’t know what other way to compliment him that will get through his thick head.

“Pandora have quite a fastidious taste when it comes to a guy she’ll be flirting with,” and it was the truth, based on Roger’s observation in the past. “And the fact that she kissed you first—”

“No, Roger. Please,” lines forming on his forehead, Brian stops him. “Can we not talk about her anymore?”

Even though he’s still bitter about it, Roger shut his mouth and trained his gaze on the ceiling of his bedroom when he felt Brian shifts closer. He could feel his breathing on his cheek and jawline. Brian’s knee brushing against his thigh. Closing his eyes again, Roger is telling himself that he’s reading into it too much and ordered himself to not do anything that he’ll regret.

“What about Sarina?” Brian sounds different when he asked after minutes of silence.

“What about her?”

“Are you officially engaged with her?”

“No. Not as of yet,” Roger explains, blocking the voice that saying that Brian is jealous. “That’s just the initial informal meeting.”

“But you looked like you two had a good time. I saw you two laughing.”

“It’s part of the meeting, Brian,” says Roger, flatly. The voice is getting louder. “I have to treat her nice.”

“And she’s really beautiful too… and rich…” Brian sighs. “A perfect match…”

Roger opened his eyes again and meet Brian’s. There’s a slight look of guilt in his hazel gaze as Roger didn’t break the eye-contact. With that, as if Roger found out his deep dark secret, Brian scrambles to arrange himself to lie down. There’s definitely tension now.

“Anyway… g’night, Roger.”

So to make the air lighter between them before they go to sleep, poking Brian on the rib as Roger decides to jokes, “What? We’re you jealous just now?”

“Ha! You wish,” Brian’s face stretches for smile that clearly comes off as fake. “Go to sleep, Roger. I have a class tomorrow.”

Then the older boy reached out for the lampshade’s switch on his side and turns it off before he could say a reply. The room is a bit dark now with only Roger’s lampshade turned on. Copying Brian’s previous position, Roger stares half of the boy’s illuminated face.

Brian _is_ jealous. He’s sure of it now.

The reason why Brian refused Pandora, the reason why Brian won’t leave his side after the accident, the reason why Brian didn’t leave him, even after Roger treats him badly before…

It all make fucking sense now! And he’s not imagining it nor jumping into conclusion!

Heart strumming crazily, Roger quickly reaches out to turn on the lampshade again. Brian’s breath hitches. The blonde heir watches as the other boy’s Adams apple bobbled as he swallows, looking nervous after he licks his lips with his eyes shut.

Roger felt his face heating up. A stupid grin forming on his face. _Brian_ _likes_ _him_ _too!_  Just the thought of it makes him feel lightheaded. Brian fucking likes him too!

Still pretending that’s he’s already asleep, Brian is such a bad actor with his eyeballs keeps moving behind his lids. And Roger finds it really funny. Letting out a quiet laugh, he shakes his head. Brian must’ve been as nervous as he is right now.

To finally let him know what he feels for him, Roger starts by gently planting a kiss on Brian’s forehead. He felt Brian stopped breathing and didn’t move. Then he brushes his lips against the tutor’s cheeks, his close lids and his chin. Roger lifts his face away a little, to see any reaction from Brian aside from the obvious blush on his cheeks. Seizing the moment, he finally dips down and presses his lips against Brian’s warm and soft ones.

Just then, Brian finally exhales the breath he’s been holding for so long as his eyes flutters open. His gaze so glassy as if he’s looking through Roger’s head, like he’s contemplating if he’s dreaming.

Feeling more confident than ever, Roger kisses him again. This time, Brian kisses him back.

A warm hand tentatively cups Roger’s face to pull him impossibly close. He wasn’t sure if it’s him or Brian who lets out a moan, when he felt that Brian props himself up on his side with an elbow.  
Meanwhile, his own elbow sliding softly against the Egyptian cotton sheets beneath him as he is now slowly being pinned down. The hand that was used a while ago to where his head was resting, is now perfectly laced with Brian’s as he dominantly hovers above him.

Roger’s whole being is buzzing with pleasure. He had imagined what feeling it would be, him and Brian kissing. Now that it’s happening, all of his expectations exceeded. And the fact that it was the lips that had brought Roger back to life made it exceptionally special.

Roger dares to look at Brian’s face under heavy lids and he falls harder. He’s just too lovely.

Slowly, the innocent and gentle kiss had morphed into passionate and burning one. Roger draping his other hand at the back of Brian’s neck, deepening the kiss, tongues dancing with each other now.

When Brian’s lips left his, Roger was about to let a groan of frustration, only to find himself biting his lower lip to suppress a moan. Wet kisses on his jaw line, that goes to the soft skin behind his ear, Roger shuddered in pleasure when he felt their erections brushing against the thin clothing of Brian’s pyjama pants and his nightshirt. While his clutch on Roger’s hand tightens, Brian let out a low, dark groan on his ear. Trail of wet kisses on his neck, Roger thought he would melt.

Roger squeaks as he jolts when Brian’s tongue explicitly made contact between his skin and the chain of his locket.

“Oh…sorry…” the laugh that escaped Brian’s mouth was almost soundless. “Ticklish?”

Then his warm fingertips starts unbuttoning Roger’s nightshirt as his kisses him again on the lips. 

Roger uses his free hand, slid it in-between them to takes a hold of Brian’s hardness that’s been poking his thigh. Unintentionally, Roger breaks the kiss as his gasps, tilting his head upwards, “Brian…”

As if worried, Brian unclasped their intertwined hand and takes each side of Roger’s face, to have full access of his mouth again. Another series of long, passionate kiss was shared.

“Roger…” so softly, Brian calls him against his lips as they catch their ragged breath. “I love you…”

Then he buried his face on Roger’s neck again and resumes what he was doing just now.

 _I love you_ … as if the words were suspended above Roger. There goes Brian’s confession he’s been fantasizing about. Still in the state of shock, dizziness washes him over. _I love you... I love you.. I love you..._

Brian is now leaving marks on his clavicle when his hand slides up inside his nightshirt and teasingly pulls down his underwear, making Roger squirm and cries strings of profanity. Then Brian lifts his nightshirt up his stomach. Felling as if his head is about to explode, when Brian finally takes a hold of his hard cock.

“Brian…” it was just a single stroke from the tutor’s long fingers, yet Roger feels as if he’s going to have his release right at that moment. “Brian… Brian…”

“I _need_ you to use your words, Roger,” Brian whispers darkly, then slips his tongue inside his mouth just to tease. “ _J'ai_ _envie_ _de_ _toi_ …”

Just hearing Brian sultrily speaking to him in French, Roger was already right on the edge. As much as he wants to utter a word, all he can do is helplessly moan, gasp, cry, and bucks against Brian’s hand. Which is new to him. As far as he can remember, Roger knows he’s quite vocal in bed.

“Roger…” sounding like a plead and an order at the same time, Brian calls his name again. His hand continuously working as he jerks-off the blond heir, whose eyes starts to become watery. “Say _something_ … please...”

Roger would really want to scream the words, “Im in love with you, too!” if only they’re not stubbornly stuck thick in his throat. So, Roger captures Brian’s face and kisses him hard to remunerate. But he himself keeps on breaking the kiss as he’s now having a hard time breathing, panting and back sweating.  
It also doesn’t help that Brian’s way of fondling his balls is making him palpitate.

“Roger, please… darling…”

The blond heir wailed out a shriek after one powerful stroke. At the same time, Brian groaned, fingers still around him when Roger convulse as he finally let go. After a while, Roger’s only focus is on his loud breathing through his nose and mouth, and his heartbeat that’s been pounding like crazy. Once he had recover, his gaze moves to Brian who is suspiciously quiet as he cleans himself with a tissue, lying next to him.

Roger know that it’s time for him to return the favor. So then, he leans in to reach Brian’s lips. He was about to crawl to be on the top of him when Brian gently presses him back to the bed, confusing Roger.

Fear slowly starts to creep up when he saw Brian sits-up and fixes his pyjama top. “Brian?”

Alert, Roger sits-up as well when he saw Brian leaving his side and both of his feet now on the floor. “B-Brian? Where are you going?”

Brian bows down to gives him a chaste kiss. Then plants another one on his forehead. Roger thinks that he’s worrying too much. Brian is not going anywhere… _right?_

Walking on the end of his bed, Brian’s back is turned against him. Roger knew he wasn’t dreaming when he heard Brian says, “What happened tonight… can we forget about it?”

As if a sharp spear stabs him in the heart. “W-What? What are you saying?”

“This thing between us…” Brian’s voice is shaking. “Let’s just pretend that it didn’t happened.”

“What? Why?” Roger sputtered. This is happening all of a sudden! “Brian, what— I don’t understand!”

As if he could still feel Brian’s lips ghosting his skin, Roger crawled towards the footing of his bed and touches Brian’s arm. Just then, he sees the tears streaming Brian’s face. Embarrassed, Brian quickly wipes his tears with his sleeves.

“Brian, please tell me what’s wrong!” Roger begs. His heart breaking with the sight of Brian as if he just got rejected.

Gently removing his hand off him, Roger helplessly watches as Brian walk barefoot towards the door and unlocks it. The older boy opened his mouth to say something but snaps it close again. Then door closed quietly behind him, leaving Roger all alone.

Hoping that it was all just a nightmare after a dream, Roger bites his arm, so hard, that he let out a muffled yelp. And when he turns on his side, his eyes found Brian’s pillow and his bedroom slippers. Biting his lower lip, Roger shuffles on his feet as he pulled up his soiled underwear and fixes himself and jumps off the bed.

Roger found Brian as he was just unlocking the door of his own bedroom. Sensing his presence, Brian stiffens. Eyes red from crying.

“Brian, you can’t just leave me like that,” Roger strode towards him and pulled him into a hug. “Tell me, what have I done?”

“Roger, I can’t do this right now,” Brian shakes him off. “We both need some rest. Goodnight.”

But Roger was stubborn. He blocks the door of Brian’s bedroom. “No! I am not going to leave until you tell me what’s wrong, Brian!”

“Roger?” he heard Mr. Edmund’s voice coming towards behind them. “I thought you’re already asleep?”

A painful smile on Brian’s face when he lies, “I’m sorry, Mr. Edmund. Roger and I was caught up in small chat… it’s quite gone emotional.”

“Oh… Brian,” Mr. Edmund sounds empathic. “Do you still want to talk about it, lad?”

“I’m totally better now. Thank you,” Brian shakes his head, eyes still glistening with tears. “Right, Roger?”

Roger averted his eyes and didn’t reply. He doesn’t really know what’s going on Brian’s head right now.

“Good,” Mr. Edmund said with a sigh of relief. “Then off to bed, you two.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Edmund,” says Brian.

“Goodnight.”

Roger waited for his mother’s assistant to leave before he looks up to Brian again. This Brian is too vulnerable from the Brian whom he had kissed and touched not too long ago.

Now that Brian had confessed to him and Roger damn made him feel that feeling is mutual, he won’t let go of it without a fucking fight!

“Roger, I—”

“You don’t have to explain to me right now,” Roger tries his best to sound calm and collected. Brian didn’t refused this time when he tiptoes to kiss him again. Roger can only wish that they could continue where they left, but it feels so wrong to force Brian. Right now, that he’s obviously battling something internally.

So once they pulled apart, Roger looks at Brian, straight in the eyes with a small, yet soft smile. “Goodnight, _mon_ _amour_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A special shoutout to the people who’ve already seen the first few lines of this chapter last week. Why? Because I accidentally posted it, while I'm trying to edit it cause I’m a dumb bitch!! °˖ ✧◝(○ ヮ ○)◜✧˖ ° yeah~!
> 
> LMFAO! Anyways! Hope you’re all doing well! And I hope y’all like this taaasteeey chapter, cause this lenghthy bitch took almost 2 weeks to write and I don’t want to have an awkward cliffhanger! (≧∇≦)
> 
> I know this is getting repetitive but, THANK YOU VERY MUCH for the warm support! I appreciate Kudos, especially the comments so fucking much! I’m sobbing! (˃̥̥ω˂̥̥̥)  
> K. I’ll stop now!
> 
> xoxo
> 
>  
> 
> =====
> 
> “I pity your wife if you think six minutes is forever.”


	9. Chapter 9

 

    ** _I_  ** _love_ _you..._

Brian rested his head against the main library’s bay-view window. Staring at the garden, blankly. The glass feels cold against his forehead. The clouds looks dull and gray. A promise of rain at dusk.

The mansion felt so cold that day that he had to wear a fleece jacket. Shivering, he sips the Oolong tea that’s been resting next to his knee to get some warmth. When the door opens with a creak, Brian frowns, “You know you can’t stay here forever, young lady.”

Clare looks like a doe caught-in-headlights, as she was trying to re-enter the room without a sound. “ _Why_ are you still here? Shouldn’t you be with Roger by now?”

Just the mere mention of her brother’s name gave Brian the tingles. The image of Roger’s face from two nights ago, flashing before his eyes: warm skin, gold hair tousled and fanned out against the pillow, cheeks high and flushed, eyes closed, and pink slightly swollen lips glistening from Brian’s kiss. Roger in his hand…

It’s all seems nothing but a dream now.

“We’ll hang out later,” Brian lied. Looking at the music book on Clare’s arms, he asks, “Aren’t you going to be late for Ms. Astanova’s class?”

“She hasn’t arrived yet, Brian.”

“Clare…” Brian gave her a look. “I saw her car fifteen minutes ago.”

Making a whimpering sound, Clare flops on the couch and let the music book fall on the floor. “It’s my exam today. But I haven’t really practiced my Chopin’s, so I’m screwed…”

“I did told you to put down those comic books once in a while, didn’t I?”

“Ugh! Brian, please. I don’t need lecture right now,” Clare mumble as she groans.

Sighing, Brian places his cup on the table in front of Clare. “I think Ms. Astanova wouldn’t be that mad if you’re going to be honest with her.”

“She won’t get mad, but Mum will surely be once _she_ finds out.”

“Clare? Why are you still here?” Roger’s voice sounded annoyed as he suddenly bolts in. “Ms. Astanova’s been waiting for you downstairs.”

Brian’s mouth went dry, eyes avoiding looking at the blond heir.

“Brian, please help me,” Clare hugs him. “I can’t do it.”

“Sorry, Clare, but you have to take your exam,” Brian told her as he softly caresses her ringlets. “You can do it.”

“I can’t, Brian…”

Removing his hand off her, Brian picks up the music book from the floor. With a firm voice that he rarely uses, he said, “Please go now. I don’t want her to think that I’m holding you up.”

Shocked, Clare’s teary eyes narrowed at Brian. Biting her lower lip, she snatches the music book angrily and leave the room with the door slamming.

“Brat,” Roger muttered, looking at the closed door.

The tutor felt butterflies in his stomach. Now, there’s just him and Roger.

_I love you..._

The mansion’s young master’s presence is just too much for him that he couldn’t move from the couch. Couldn’t find anything to do, Brian takes his tea again. His hand shaking so badly, that the drink is slightly swirling. As he was just placing the cup back to the saucer, he heard the lock clicked. At the same time, Roger cleared his throat.

Almost quietly, the words floated, “I’ve missed you, Brian…”

The tea that is still on his throat suddenly becomes too hard to swallow. And once he does, he felt his whole body tense and froze when he felt Roger’s arms behind him. Their cheeks pressing on each other.

“Roger…” Brian shuts his eyes as Roger starts nuzzling the side of his face.

The tip of the younger boy’s nose brushing against his jawline and to the shell of his ear, making him already feel slightly lightheaded. Mercifully, Roger let go of him, not after he kissed his cheek. Inhaling loudly, Roger sat on the seat across Brian. He then takes his own tea cup and serves himself quietly. Blue gaze moving curiously to the window as the rain starts to fall. “Oh…”

Thinking how pathetic and weak he’s acting right now, stupidly, Brian still ends up with the lame, “How are you?”

Blinking at him, Roger quietly studies him for a bit. A sad smile on his face, Roger answers, “Could be better.”

“I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize, Brian,” says Roger, taking another sip. “Also, I just want you to know that I’m not mad or anything.”

Lowering his eyes, Brian starts to rotate the ring on his pinkie, as he tries to compose himself. There’s lots of things racing his mind right now. So many things that he wants to say to Roger.

_Calm the fuck down, Brian May!_

“Is there something that I said... that make you feel this way?” Roger breaks the silence, picking up a dry cuticle on his left thumb.

_It’s actually something that you didn't say..._

“Roger…” Brian breathes out. Just tell him and have this get over with. “There’s something that I realized… during _that_ moment..”

Crossing his legs, Roger looks at him with a serious face. As if Brian couldn’t be more intimidated.

“This feeling that we have right now… I think it’s only normal because we are both lonely,” the words are heavy and bitter on his mouth, but it makes his chest feels lighter. “And perhaps, we’re both so desperately longing for physical affection…”

Roger didn’t respond, as if waiting for him to continue. He then takes a cigarette and lights it.

“And I know… that it must’ve been hard for you to say that you love me back,” praying that he won’t start crying, Brian hopes that he could finish what he wants to say, before he embarrassingly bursting into tears again. “No wonder why you didn’t say anything…”

Finally saying the words out loud feels so liberating, yet so heart-wrenching at the same time. “I’m sorry for thinking that I might have a chance— because I know I don’t. I’m sorry if it seems that I was expecting for you to say that you love me back. I’m sorry if I comes off as pushy. Roger, I’m sorry…”

An exasperated sigh escaped Roger’s mouth as he glowers at him. Brian couldn’t really blame him. Stubbing the unfinished cigarette on the ashtray, Roger stood up from the seat and Brian’s heart fell on the pit of his stomach. He heard the door being unlocked.

“Brian...” he heard Roger called him. “Get out.”

A cold feeling run Brian’s spine and is left speechless. He could feel Roger’s eyes boring into his back. Legs a bit wobbly as he stands, Brian almost chokes up as he picks up his things and walks to towards the door. He couldn’t meet Roger’s eyes as he passes by him at the doorway.

_Is this how they’re going to end up?_

Feet feeling like they’re made out of cement, Brian makes his way towards his bedroom.

But…

…Roger is following him.

_Why?_

“Um…?” consciously, Brian watches as Roger locks his bedroom door after closing it. Then, Roger sauntered towards him and gets his books from his arms before throwing them on the carpeted floor. “Why’d—?”

The intensity of Roger’s icy gaze made Brian immobile. Enough for him not to see the two hands that are cupping the back of his neck, to bent down his face. Fingers a bit too tight on his curls. “W-Wha—Roger, wait…”

“Shut up…”

But there’s no time for waiting, as their lips are already pressed together. Tasting slight nicotine, Brian’s own hands making their own way to find Roger’s sides to pull their bodies closer.

And _this_ is what he fears of. And longs for. _God knows how much he wants this!_

“How _dare_ you to invalidate my feelings, Mr. May,” Roger’s eyes are still sharp and intimidating. Brian shuts his eyes and hopes that they would just continue kissing mindlessly instead. “When in fact that I’ve fallen from you the day that you came here.”

Brian felt his heart just leaped.

… _What?!_

A swift peck on the lips, Roger continues. “I quickly fell in love with the charming, smart, gentle, genuine tutor… as much as I hate to admit it at first.”

Roger’s finger running to trace his cheekbone, “I started dreaming what it would be like to talk to him. But I was too scared to trust him, even though my heart keeps on telling me to do so. I ended up being a fucking prick to him, to which I still regret till this day. He always treats my mother, especially my sister so well. He treats everyone with kindness. Always so polite and respectful. I fell in love with a classy and elegant young man…”

Brian’s head starts to swim with Roger’s words. He could feel his walls slowly collapsing each minute. It’s his first time hearing those things.

“I will never forget the day he took care of me when I was sick, and the beautiful smile he gave me when he told me that I mentioned his name for the first time,” warm lips on Brian’s again. “Oh… and he returned to me my precious locket, but then I called him a ‘fucking asshole’ because he had mistaken me for my sister.”

Out-of-character, they both snorted and laughs softly, lessening the tension. Brian’s lips curling into a smile as he remembers the memory. To think that it was almost three months ago.

“I always wanted to be with him. Always wanted to talk to him. He’s intelligent yet so witty. Always wanted to be near him. I fell in love harder when he played the guitar while I sang,” Roger’s eyes so gentle now. “But then, I got so afraid when I thought I told him _too_ _much_ of myself, only to find out that that’s the best thing I’ve done. To feel free. Because I finally have someone to call a ‘friend’. Someone I could trust…”

“Oh, Roger,” Brian pulls him into a hug. It gives him such a warm fuzzy feeling that Roger remembered all of those things.

“I feel in love with him because he made me feel that I could be just myself, not what people expect me to be. He made me fall in love with the stars and the heavenly bodies. He saved me so many times— literally…”

Just then he could feel Roger’s body starts to shake. And when Brian pulled back a little, a fresh tear just rolled down the younger boy’s cheek. “And when the night he told me he loves me, I thought I was just dreaming. I couldn’t… I was _too_ happy. So fucking much! In my mind, I was screaming on the top of my lungs how much I love him. But I was too speechless with the kisses and… his touch…”

Wiping Roger’s tears that continuously flows, Brian’s heart continue to race.

“Come…” hastily, Brian pulled Roger towards his bed. The younger boy gasped at his urgency.

It was a miracle they were both able to kick their shoes off without kicking each other. Just as Brian is about to devour Roger’s lips again as he’s alluringly pinned down on the newly clean sheets, the blonde heir placed a finger on his lips. “Not so fast…I’m still not done!”

Brian felt Roger’s palms pushing him off him, that he doesn’t have any choice but to roll-over on his back with a groan. Lacing their fingers together, Roger swallowed the lump on his throat. They both stared at the ceiling for a moment.

“You’re right, Brian…about the both of us being lonely,” Roger exhales loudly through his nose as he closes his eyes. “I hated what I’ve become before I met you. I was broken. I was a mess.”

Then his finger tightens as if to emphasize, “But you came to me —to my family— like a gift from the heavens. A blessing-in-disguise. Being with you ignites the fire in me to have a will to live again, and look at the things in life with a silver lining. I find tranquility being with you. You ground me, in a way that not everyone can do.”

Roger pauses to wipes his tears with the back of his free hand. “And when I finally makes peace with my heart, and finally became honest, to finally admit to myself that I _am_ in love with you, I’ve never been so happy and contented again. And all those lonely days, long gone now.”

The blonde heir turned his head to face him. “When you said you love me, I know you’re telling the truth because I _felt_ it.”

 _Of_ _course_ _that_ _is_ _the_ _truth!_ And Brian was beyond relief that his feelings reached Roger.

“Then, Brian…” Roger’s voice was hollowly breaking when he asks, “Why are you fighting your feelings?”

Brian had asked himself the same question multiple times: Why did he suddenly starts fighting and shutting the feelings down?

His brain immediately answered two things: fear and insecurity.

And his realistic side had already told him that even Roger does feel the same genuine love towards him, would they be able to fight for it? Be courageous enough to tell the world that they want to be together? That this is not just a fling that they won’t forget, yet will both regret.

So the words starts spilling off Brian’s mouth while Roger tentatively listens to him. And once he’s finished, Roger smiles at him so gently. “And do you think I wasn’t frightened? This is all nothing but foreign to me.” Then he confesses, “Brian, it’s my _first_ _time_ to fall in love with someone. Let alone, someone who is in the same gender.”

“But your ex-fiancés…? Did you not love them?” his voice sounded so small and weak.

Roger frowned. “ _Love_? ‘Love’ would be a strong word to describe what feelings I’ve had for them. ‘Crush’ perhaps would be fitting. And when I was with them, I didn’t think about them, the way I think about you. Didn’t feel the same feeling whenever I’m with you.”

Brian was left speechless. He was completely been debunked.

“Now that you mentioned them, looking back, I feel that there’s even a time that I’ve told myself that I have to like them, because that’s what is _expected_ for me to feel,” Roger’s finger starts absentmindedly tracing the side of face again. And warm breath tickling Brian’s ear, which is oddly arousing. “But with you… it was all natural. Perhaps, because you weren’t shove in a silver platter to me by force. But even if you are…”

The words were cut as Roger kissed his cheek, “I don’t think there’s going to be a goddamn difference.”

 _Roger_ _loves_ _you_. _You_. _Not_ _his ex-_ _fiancées. Not_ _his_ _future_ _fiancée_. _It’s you_. _You_. _YOU!_   _You lucky bastard!_

After an arduous couple of days of overthinking, crying, lack of sleep, half-hearted happiness and avoiding Roger, Brian finally felt peace in his heart. And it felt so impossibly good! Euphoria washing over him.

“Brian, I’m in love with you,” Roger’s lips on his. The words sounded equally impossibly sweet on his ears. Then he felt Roger poking on his rib. “Hey! Why are you not saying something?”

Embarrassed as he could feel his face heating up, Brian covers his face with his hands. “Roger, I’m swooning!”

Roger gasped in delight and burst into laughter as he starts to wrestle him to remove his hands. “I wanna see your face! I wanna see you, Brian!”

“No! I’m pathetically blushing right now!”

And when Brian didn’t cave in, the younger boy starts tickling his sides, making Brian squirm under him. They’re both breathless once they both gave up. Roger lying on top of him, blond head on his chest, bodies fitting perfectly with each other.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” pressing his ear, Roger closes his eyes. “It’s saying ‘Roger, Roger, Roger,’…”

“What?” Brian guffaws. “God! We’re acting like a total cliché.”

“But we’re a cute cliché. Not the cringe-y type!” says Roger and pokes the tip of his nose.

“If you say so…” Brian exhales as he smile at him. He then traces Roger’s cheekbone, copying what the boy kept doing to him a little while ago. While, Roger stealing some kisses on his finger and his hand, with a sultry look on his eyes under thick lashes.

“C’mere, you little tease,” smirking, Brian takes his chin to make Roger go up and have a face-to-face level. Drinking in Roger’s angelic, innocent face, Brian couldn’t believe he’s _his_. “How beautiful you are…”

Roger flashes him a lazy smirk, “Thank you. And I’m so lucky I got myself a dreamy and gorgeous boyfriend.”

“B-boyfriend?” Brian stutters. Then a grin slowly spreads across his face. “ _Boyfriend_.” His shoulders starts to shake as he chuckles.

“Why are you laughing like that? You weirdo,” Roger makes a face. “Stop it, Brian!”

Brian place a hand on his face, feeling himself blushing again. “I have a boyfriend. Ah! This is crazy! I’m so happy!”

Grabbing Roger’s —his boyfriend— face, Brian showers him with wet kisses with pure adoration.

“Ugh! Ew, Brian!” wrinkling his nose, Roger pushed his face away from him. “Why are you kissing me like an excited puppy?”

But Brian didn’t stop. He just laughs and continuously kisses Roger, while the younger boy was struggling to break free. “Oh! I’m so in love with you!”

“I know. And I love you more.”

The kiss felt just like the first time: slow, passionate, and full of love.

As much as he wouldn’t want to break this moment, Brian can’t just keep the question off his mind. So, almost whispering, he asks, “We’re going to keep this a secret between us, for now, right?”

Roger let out a resigned sigh. Just like Brian, he’s aware of the reality, waiting for them. “We don’t have any choice, don’t we?”

They looked into each others eyes, while Brian’s hand smoothing Roger’s back. What will happen with them in the future is something that they both can’t predict, but what they have right now is something special. Every time Brian reasoned out and push the feelings away, it feels as if he’s killing himself inside.

“Let’s just be happy with what we have right now,” lacing their fingers together, Roger decided. “I don’t want this to be taken away from me.”

“I agree,” Brian’s heart flutters. It really seems that Roger do genuinely treasure him and his feelings towards him.

Then with a suggestive smirk on his lips, Roger says, “And isn’t this thrilling? A clandestine relationship, I mean. We will be all but secretive for now.”

Pushing a stray fringe off Roger’s eye, Brian smiled. “We should be really careful for now, okay?”

Roger nodded. Grinning cheekily he says, “But how exciting it’ll be? You and me, stealing kisses while Mum or Clare’s in the same room?”

Brian blinks at him, then frowned. “In what way you don’t understand the word, ‘careful’, Roger?”

Instead, Roger gives him a kiss. “You’re so strict, Mr. May.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. Though he hopes, that Roger will seriously take the fact that they do,indeed, have to be careful.

“Are you really that cold?” Roger asks, poking the zipper of his jacket. Brian nods.

A wordless pause passed. Then Roger looks at him meaningfully.

His boyfriend’s voice husky when he offers, “Want me to warm you up?”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

       

        They both doze off. Awoken by someone knocking on his door, Brian found Roger practically blanketing him with his body. The room was dark and their only source of light was the lights from the veranda.

“Brian?” Mr. Edmund’s voice sounding impatient. “Brian?”

Quickly turning on his bedroom lamp, he lightly shakes off the mansion’s heir. “Roger, wake up.”

“Mmm…what?”

“Wake up, Mr. Edmund’s at the door,” Brian urges as the knocking wont stop. “Hide in the bathroom for now.”

“‘Ts fine…”

“Brian? It’s time for dinner.”

“Roger, please!” Brian sharply whispered. Grunting, Roger still half-asleep makes his way to the bathroom.

Scrambling to dash and race to the door, Brian almost trips over his trousers that was on the floor. He almost slapped himself, when he realized that he doesn’t even have his underwear on. “Oh, fuck!”

“Brian?”

“Y-Yes, Sir! I’m awake now!” He definitely is. His fingers shaking as he zips his pants up.  
To be on the safer side, Brian only open the door wide enough to poke his head out. “S-Sorry, Sir. I doze off.”

Mr. Edmund’s brows are furrowed. “Too tired? Mr. Tony had called you _twice_.”

“Um… yeah. I’m so sorry…”

Still looking unconvinced, Mr. Edmund’s eyes trails inside his poorly lit bedroom. “Have you seen Roger? Before you doze off, I mean.”

Swallowing a nervous lump, Brian feigned innocence. “No, Sir. Why?”

“He’s not in his bedroom nor other places in the house where he normally stays at,” says Mr. Edmund. “I _thought_ he’s with you.”

“No. He isn’t.”

Green eyes still lingering on Brian, Mr. Edmund sighs after. “Anyway, hurry and go downstairs once you’re done freshening up.”

“Yes, Sir. I will.”

He was about to close the door when, “Oh! And, Brian…”

 _Fuck!_   _What_ _is_ _it_ _now?_

“Would you like to have some Valerian roots tea prepared for you?” Mr. Edmund asked. “Seems that you’ve been lacking sleep lately.”

Internally embarrassed, Brian sheepishly nods. Once Mr. Edmund was already fifteen steps away from his room, Brian immediately shuts the door and turned on the lights.

Roger looks like he’s still in daze, eyes looking up on the bathroom’s ceiling as he’s sprawled on the huge tub.

“Come here, Roger. Let’s freshen up. Time for dinner.”

The blond heir just lazily looks at Brian for a second, then returned his eyes back to where it was fixated.

So Brian let him be and grabs his toothbrush. Not longer than a minute, Roger removes himself off the tub and walks languidly towards him on the sink. Taking Brian’s newly rinsed toothbrush, he watches as Roger squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste and starts brushing his teeth while Brian washes his face. Just as he’s patting his face dry, Brian noticed something.

“ _Jesus!”_ eyes wide as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. _Hickeys!_ Fucking hickeys on his neck and collarbones!

The culprit let out a proud snort as he’s also done washing his face. “Might want to zip that jacket, all the way up, Brian,” with an all-knowing smirk, Roger takes the towel from his hand and eyed his jacket.

“Roger, you know—”  
  
“Oh! Don’t lecture me, Mr. May,” Roger stared at him on the mirror. Then he drags the collar of his black long-sleeve sweater and shows the fading but still visible hickeys on his own clavicle. Obviously, those were from Brian’s. “Now, we’re equal.”

That made Brian bite his tongue. He was definitely so lost in his desire and lust that night. Normally, he doesn’t like getting nor giving hickeys; for him, it’s too childish and tacky to brand a person that way.

“I’m done,” Roger told him and zips up his jacket to hide Brian’s neck. After a quick chaste kiss on the lips, Roger added, “Act normal. The more that you act fidgety, the more that you’ll look suspicious.”

Brian scowls. “I _know_ that.”

 

             They’ve had some unspoken decision to have Brian walks to the dining hall first and Roger followed him behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” Brian apologizes as he saw that Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Edmund was already eating.

“Brian, are you okay, dear?” Mrs. Taylor asked, worried. “It’s the first time you have to be woken up thrice.”

Before he can answer the question with a lie, Roger’s voice comes from behind. Brian thought that he’s only imagining the graze on his ass as he was about to sit down, next to the younger boy.

“Where’s the little spawn of satan?”

“Roger,” Mrs. Taylor’s voice was stern. “Mind your language. And you’re late too. Where have you been?”

“The music room,” Roger lied smoothly, taking the napkin and spreads it on his lap. “I feel asleep behind my drum kit.”

Mrs. Taylor turned to Mr. Edmund with a questioning look on her face. “You said you _checked_ the music room?”

“I did, Madame,” Mr. Edmund’s eyes on Roger. “Apologies if I didn’t searched for him thoroughly.”

Mrs. Taylor just dismissively sighed. “It’s fine.”

Brian tries to block out their conversation as he looks at foods on their table. He couldn’t stop himself feeling guilty for Mr. Edmund.

“Um… Madame, where’s Clare?”

“I’ll tell you boys later.”

“Ooh! Japanese for dinner! My favorite!” Roger exclaimed, very happy. Excitedly, he takes two shrimp tempura and sushi rolls on his plate with his chopsticks. The sound of Roger moaning as he swoons over the food made Brian secretly squirm on his seat. It sounds _too_ _familiar_ now on his ears. “I’ve missed these! Thanks, mum!”

“You’re welcome, my love,” Mrs. Taylor smiled fondly at her son from across the table. Then frowns a little when she saw Brian looking quite confused over the food. “Is there something wrong, dear?”

“Um…” Brian looks at her, smiling modestly. “I honestly don’t know how to eat this.”

Roger was more than happy to offer his help. Brian ended up having a piece of grilled fish, shrimp tempura, a cup of rice, and tofu soup. “Oh! That was delicious. Thank you!”

Once they’re done with the marvelous meal, Mrs. Taylor asked them both to follow her on the family room. His boyfriend (this will take time to get use to) covertly links his fingers with Brian’s, behind his mother’s and her assistant’s backs, and Brian could feel that his face heating up again. Roger naughtily grinned at him.

Thinking that two could play this game, Brian removed their intertwined hands. Lifting Roger’s chin with his fingers, he says in a quite loud voice, “You got something stuck on your teeth, mate.”

Roger blanches and froze on the spot. Mrs. Taylor looks at them over her shoulder and stifle a giggle. The tea was served after. Brian chooses to sit away from Roger from now, afraid that the blond heir is already thinking for a comeback.

“So where’s Clare, mum?” Roger asked again.

“Clare is not feeling well.”

“She’s sick?” Brian anxiously asked.

“No. Not really,” Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “She just gotten her first period. Her cramps is a bit intense than normal. She needs some good rest.”

Brian’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. No wonder why she’s been acting so grumpy and short-tempered lately.

“Oh! _Ouch!_ ”Roger makes a face as if he just tasted something sour. “That gotta hurt, yeah?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Taylor agreed, eye twitching with her son’s reaction. “So, I _expect_ that you don’t tease nor annoy your little sister for a week. She’s a bit moody right now. She’s also quite scared because it’s her first time experience.”

“I’ll try, mum,” with a mischievous smile, Roger promised.

Brian shakes his head and sips the tea. It was stronger than what he normally drinks.

“Anyway,” Mrs. Taylor rolls her eyes jokingly. “Any plans for your up-coming birthday, dear?”

“Well… um, I don’t want an extravagant—”

“Oh! No, son,” the madame waves her hand lightly. “I’m not talking to you, I was talking to Brian.”

 _Oh!_ Brian met their gaze as he looks up from the saucer. “Um…”

“Really now, mate?” Roger sends him an annoyed look. Perhaps is ticked because they’re now boyfriends, but he doesn’t know this simple fact about him. “When is your birthday?”

“The eleventh,” Brian tried to sounds neutral. “Yours is on the 29th, right?”

Roger’s eyes twinkled at the fact that Brian knows his birth date.

“That’s right,” Mrs. Taylor agreed. “So any plans?”

Actually, Brian do already have a plan set. His mother had asked him to go home. Mrs. May told him that he’ll have a celebration and told him that she’d already invited Freddie, Mary, Tim, and the others, so Brian could no longer refuse.

“I do have, Madame,” Brian answers. “I’ll be coming home on Saturday the 12th and be back Sunday night. My mom forced me. She said she’ll be throwing a small party and had already sent the invites.”

He could see on his peripheral vision that Roger’s face fell, and hid his frown with the cup. At the same time, Mrs. Taylor laces her fingers together, “Well that should be _fine_. Isn’t that right, Edmund?”

Mr. Edmund nodded with a smile. “Shall I make an arrangement to extend our hotel booking?”

Brows furrowed, Brian and Roger exchanges confuse look.

“I have a business in Feltham with the Waldorfs on that week,” Mrs. Taylor explained, smiling brightly. “Would you mind inviting _us_ to join your celebration?”

Brian was shocked! Not just he’ll be able to go home, but also he can celebrate his birthday with the Taylors. Most, especially with Roger, who mirrors the same reaction as him.

“O- Of course! You’re all be more than welcome, Madame,” Brian couldn’t stop himself from beaming. “But please, I just want to make it clear, that it’ll be a small party.” Then he adds, a little embarrassed, “Not the ones that you’re commonly used to.”

Mrs. Taylor reaches out to pat his thigh. “Oh! It’s alright, Brian. I am more than excited to finally meet your parents. I can’t wait to tell them amazing stories about you!”

Then, it was settled. They’re all going to Feltham two weeks from now. Brian couldn’t be more excited as he feels that it’ll be one of the best birthdays he’ll have!  
Just as Roger and him was about to leave the room, Mrs. Taylor asked him to stay behind for a quick word.

“Any particular gift that you want for your birthday, sweetheart?” asked Mrs. Taylor, holding both of his hands.

“Um, no. Thank you,” he shakes his head. “Don’t bother, Madame, really.”

“How about a new telescope? Or camera?” Mr. Edmund suggested.

“Yes. Something that’ll be useful to Brian.”

“Oh! No! No! That’s fine.”

“No, Brian. There should be something,” Mrs. Taylor clucks her tongue, thinking. “You’ve been so good to me, and my children. You’re the best tutor that I’ve met, and still you’re so young. You don’t know how great feedbacks I’ve heard from my friends about you. And most importantly, you saved Roger! And I don’t think any wealth I have could repay you for it.”

Warm feelings flooded Brian’s chest. He also got lucky being with the Taylors himself.

“You’ve always been generous and kind to me as well,” Brian smiled at the mansion’s mistress gently, squeezing her hands softly. “I’ve got everything I need now, Madame.”

“Well, if ever you decides on something, you shall tell me. Okay?”

Brian just nods. He then bade her and Mr. Edmund goodnight.

He almost jumps when Roger reappeared from somewhere the empty hallways, and pressed him against the nearest wall before kissing him hotly.

“Rog— we can’t—”

Almost lost in the sensation, Brian remembered that someone might actually see them. He quickly pulled back, breathless, as he snaps back to reality. Ducking Roger’s face on his chest, a fistful of blond locks on his hands.

“Brian…” his boyfriend melts against his body into a form of hug. “That tea is making me sleepy.”

“Surprisingly, I didn’t feel that when you’re kissing me,” still running out-of-breath, Brian swallows while a bit nervously looking around the hallways. “Come. Let’s say goodnight to Clare.”

 

     The mansion’s little mistress do looks like she’s indeed in a pitiful state as she lies on her stomach, on her pink canopy bed.

“Hey, Clare…” gently, the called her in unison as they poke their heads in by the doorway. Jade smiled at them and exits out the room.

Roger steps in and approached his sister first. “Hey, little Princess.”

Brian discreetly rolled his eyes on how Roger’s pet name for Clare can go quickly from ‘Little spawn of satan’ to ‘Little Princess’.

Clare just made a whimpering sound, obviously in pain. Brian takes the other side of the bed and caresses her braids. “Hey… I’m sorry if I raised my voice earlier.”

Sniffing, Clare just looks at him through her tear-stricken eyes. Brian gently wipes her fresh tears with his thumb, feeling genuinely sorry for her. “Does it really hurt so bad?”

“Yes,” nodding weakly, Clare’s lower lip trembles.

“Would you want me to read you a bedtime story then?” he caught a glimpse of Roger climbing on the other side and lying cozily next to his sister.

“No…” Clare slightly frowns at him. “I’m a young maiden now, Brian. I’m too _old_ for bedtime stories.”

“Of course,” Brian agreed, couldn’t suppress the chuckle. Maybe, young girls have clicks on their mind that made them to think they have to act mature, once they starts to bleed.  
“Then, tomorrow, we’re just going to have a light review for your tests and you can take some short breaks in between. Sounds fine to you?”

A flash of relief crosses her face. “Thank you, Brian. You’re the best.”

Giving the back of her warm hand and the top of her head a kiss, Brian taps on Roger’s arm who is already falling asleep. “Goodnight, Clare.”

“Goodnight.”

Almost lazily, Roger sits up and kisses the same spots where Brian kisses her. “Night, _mon_ _ange_. Hope you feel better soon.”

“I love you both,” Clare told them as they’re following each other out the door. Brian flashed her a sweet smile while Roger blows her a kiss.

They walked to Brian’s room in silence. Once the door shut, Brian anticipated a kiss from Roger. But the blond heir yawned instead. As if contagious, Brian found himself yawning as well.

 _The_ _tea_ …

“Brian, you don’t know how I really, _really_ want to kiss you and tear your clothes off, but…” Roger rubs his eyes and yawned again.

So he takes Roger hand and guides him to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for bed. After they’re done, Brian laughs in amusement as he looks at Roger’s “sleepwear” that consists of his pyjama top and clean unused underwear that is a bit loose on him.

“Wait here, I’m gonna get you some proper clothes,” Brian offered, looking at Roger’s exposed smooth legs and thighs. He looks like a cute scarecrow as the pyjama sleeves are longer than his arms.

Carefully, as he slips out his room, Brian races to Roger’s bedroom upstairs. He pulled up short when he saw Mr. Edmund and Mr. Tony by the door. “Hello...”

“Brian, have you seen Roger?” Mr. Edmund asked.

 _Act_ _normal!_

“Yes,” Brian answered. “He’s crashing in on my bedroom… again, apparently. I just need to get him some clothes.”

Mr. Tony cleared his throat and went inside the bedroom. While they wait in awkward silence, Brian thanked Mr. Edmund for the tea. “Although, it seems that it has more effect on Roger than me.”

“I hope you get some good sleep tonight,” Mr. Edmund said. “Both of you, I mean.”

Then, Mr. Tony came out with bundle of Roger’s clothes on his hand. Brian takes it from the butler and bade both gentlemen goodnight. As he walks away from them, Brian thinks he’s overthinking _again_ , when he thinks he noticed something with the way Mr. Edmund looks at him just now. 

The thought lingers on his mind on his way to his bedroom. It only went away when he saw Roger sitting up on the bed, desperately fighting sleep. “Hey…”

Brian places the clothes at the end of his bed. Swiftly, he captures Roger’s lips with his own that seems awaken him a bit. Once they part, Roger sighs against his chest as he they both finally lie down.

“You know you could’ve ask her for a new car and she’ll give it to you with no hesitation…”

“Huh?” Brian checks if Roger is just mumbling things, pushing away his soft hair off his beautiful face. “What?”

“The birthday gift,” Roger explains, a bit slurry. “Mum loves you so much, she might give you anything you’ll wish all her money could buy.”

“You were listening again?” Brian scratches his eyelid, starting to feel sleepy.

Roger just shrugs and pulled him closer. His clothes that Brian had gotten him, long forgotten. “As far as I know, I already know what I’ll give you as a birthday gift.”

“Really? What is it?”

“A stripper…” Roger jokes as he laughs softly. Brian pinches his nose gently.

“Actually, your mum had already given me the best birthday gift,” Brian angles down his face to slightly brushes his lips against Roger’s.

Surprised, Roger’s eyes fluttered open and looks at him. “What? Really?”

And Brian thought that Roger already _knows_ the cheesy line. “Yeah… _you_ …”

Roger’s eyes crinkling and his shoulders shakes as he laughs. Brian could feel himself blushing, burying his face on the crook of Roger’s neck.

The rain continues to pour outside, but they’re cocooned in warm bliss. A couple of minutes of silence passed. Brian wasn’t sure if Roger was already asleep until…

“Brian…”

“Hhmm?”

“Do you want to eat something my Mum made for your birthday?”

“What? She already made something?”

“Yeah… me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!** ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙
> 
> This is the last chapter update for the year 2018! Can you believe that it’s almost 2019!?! Whuutt!!?!
> 
> Anywho, I would like to say THANK YOU again to you readers who supported and still supports this fic *cheers* 
> 
> Happy New Year! Bonne année! Praying that we all have a safe, fun and prosperous new year to come!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ====
> 
> “yOu cAlL mE ‘sw3et’, liKe iM suM kiNd oF cHe3se”
> 
> “It’s good!”
> 
> “wOoooW!”


	10. Chapter 10

 

       **“O** h my God! What?” Brian was beaming at him as he takes the photo from Roger’s hand. His canine adorably poking out. Roger has to stop himself from reaching out and giving his boyfriend a kiss, because his sister’s head is resting on his back and looking up to them.

That night, the three of them are gathered in the family room. Almost three hundred photos from the previous party, littered, on the Moroccan rug that their Dad gifted to their Mum as a Valentines Day present many years ago. Another bag of polaroid photos next to Clare’s shoeless foot.  
They were only allowed to see the photos after Clare practically begged Mrs. Taylor to see them as they spoke through a long distance call from Feltham.

Tomorrow will be Brian’s 22nd, and Roger is so exhilarated as if it’s his own. He and Clare have prepared a surprise for him. He just couldn’t wait to see what his lover’s reaction will be!

The soft hum of the television in the background was replaced with the sound of Clare’s laughter. “Look! Look! Uncle looks like he’s about to sneeze!” handing the photo to Roger, he also guffaws as everyone on the shot looks surprised with the camera’s flash. “Mum’s eyes were closed! Sleepy?”

When Roger returned his eyes to Brian, his boyfriend’s eyes are still fixated on the photo. It was a photo of him and Roger, at the footing of the grand staircase. They both looked good. Roger was sporting that tiny hint of smirk while Brian… Brian is _just_ profoundly dreamy.

“Can I have this please?” pleading, Brian looks up and met his gaze after it looks like he just memorized the tiniest details of the photo.

Clare sits up and looks at it. “Ooh! You two looked handsome. Though, I think Mum would wanna have it herself.”

Giving Brian’s arm a subtle touch, Roger says, “Don’t worry, Brian. We can just ask Mum to reproduce another copy of it. I love that photo of us myself.”

“I’ll ask for my copy, too,” Clare smiles at them. “I’m gonna have it framed, and put it on my nightstand.”

“Of course, you will,” Roger kisses the top of her head.

Then his sister went back to her previous position and continue sifting through the photos. After a while, she hands a couple of photos of hers to Roger. “You miss _them_? They missed you.”

Looking back at him, were photos of Dominique and Debbie, together with Clare. It was such a bummer that he wasn’t able to see them at the party. They’ve grown into fine young women, which makes Roger genuinely happy. He would be lying if he’ll say he didn’t had feelings for each girls, during the time they were respectively engaged to Roger. But it was really _nothing_ but an innocent teenage crush.

“Ugh…” Clare wrinkled her nose. “These here are mostly Mum with her business partners— wait! _What?_!”

Suddenly sitting up and knocking Brian’s hand, Clare studies the photo on her hands until she’s crosseyed. Shoving the photo to her tutor’s hand angrily, Clare asked, “What’s the _meaning_ of this Brian?”

Roger craned his neck to look what the fuss was all about. He felt something dropped on his stomach when he saw what was on the photo; it was Brian and Pandora. A photo of them kissing on the porch.

_Shit!_

Roger didn’t tell Clare about that incident.

“Clare, I can explain,” Brian holds both of her shoulders to calm her down. At the same moment, Clare crossed her arms over her chest. Her expression is the perfect example of a girlfriend who caught her boyfriend cheating on her, red-handed.

“You see, Pandora kissed me…” Brian starts explaining. “She was quite drunk.”

“She _can’t_ do that!” Clare disagreed. “Pandora’s already engaged—”

“Her engagement’s been cancelled,” Roger comes into Brian’s rescue. “She told me herself.”  
And before Clare can speak again, he adds, “She got angry at me when I told her I won’t fix her up with Brian. Remember when we saw each other on the third floor? I was drenched in fucking martini? She did that to me. And she said some viscous things about me…”

“Also, Clare, when I pushed her back, she told me… bad things… about your family,” Brian nods. “And accused me for some things…”

Clare looks like she was about to cry. Roger couldn’t really blame her. _It’s_ Pandora they’re talking about. Clare adores Pandora like the older sister she never had. Well, Pandora used to be so fun to be with. Although, it seems that after a couple of years that they’ve lost touch, she’d grown into someone Roger no longer recognized.

“Sorry if we did not tell you about this,” Brian said, apologetically. “It’s just that we don’t want you involved with this. Roger said that you two have a great relationship.”

Lowering her eyes, Clare takes the photo again. She then walks towards the room’s Victorian fireplace, throws it there and watches in silence as the paper completely burns. Roger and Brian exchanged sad looks.

Then she came back, sinks on her knees and wraps her arms around Brian. “I’m sorry, Brian. I should’ve not acted so angry.”

“It’s fine, Clare,” Brian assures her as he caress her ringlets.

“But seriously though, when did Pandora becomes a scrubber?” Clare mumbles and Brian just smiled. She got lucky because him nor Brian will not reprimand her for her words for now.

Roger watches them as they’re wrapped around each other. It made him feel like an outsider from their current little bubble. He wasn’t sure _who_ is he jealous of right now: Clare, because she can hug and touch Brian with no problem? Or Brian, who seems to be the centre of his younger sister’s affection that used to be Roger’s spot?

“Clare, come here…”

The young tutor and his pupil turned to Roger. He gestured Clare to sit in front of him. “What is it, Rog?”

Cupping her face, gently, Roger studies his sister’s face. He secretly hopes that she won’t loose her adorable pinch-able, dimpled cheeks yet. Cerulean eyes like his, pretty slim up-turned nose and naturally pink-bow lips; it’s a fact that Clare will be a stunner once she grows into a full grown adult woman. Just the thought of Clare having her future boyfriend —and blokes lining over to win her— is already making Roger’s blood boil.

“You know you’re really beautiful, right?”

“ _Roger!”_  Clare grimaces, cringing, as she looks away. “What’s up with your ass?”

Brian looks at them with a mixture amusement and confusion.

“No, listen to me,” Roger tells his sister. “Once Mum starts allowing you to go alone with those parties and soirées, because you’re pretty, boys will surely find you irresistible and will surely hit on you.”

“I’m _not_ so sure about that…”

“Yes, they will,” Roger insisted. “And _what_ will you do if some bitch-ass bloke tries to kiss you without your consent?”

“Kick him in the balls and spit on his face— better if with phlegm,” Clare grins at him wickedly. Upon hearing her answer, Brian throws his head back and laughs.

“Very good, Ms. Taylor,” Roger couldn’t stop sticking the tip of his tongue on the corner of his mouth, suppressing a chuckle. “It’s very un-lady like, but they’ll know they cannot mess up with you.”  
  
Clare nods her head.

“So far, how many boys have kissed you?” Roger asked curiously. “Be honest, Clare.”

“Uh-uh! I haven’t kissed anyone. The boys I know are pigs,” Clare answers immediately, eyes-wide. “The only men I’ve kissed were you and Dad.”

Roger let out a sigh of relief. “You won’t allow anyone to kiss you without your consent and vise versa.”

“I won’t allow anyone to kiss me without my consent, nor kiss anyone without their consent,” Clare promised.

Then he takes Clare’s hands and kissed the back of them. “Once you get it, make sure that it’ll be with the right person. And that it’ll be sweet and memorable.”

Clare rolled her eyes and hugs him tight. She then grabs Roger’s face and gives him a smooch on his cheek with a farting sound. Roger tickles her as she giggles. Oh! How he wish his sister would still be this affectionate even when they’re older.

Grabbing on his wrists, Clare suddenly asked Brian and him an intriguing question, “Have you ever kissed a girl without her consent?”

“I have never,” Roger answered pridefully. Which is true! _Fuck, yeah!_

“I have…”

Blinking twice, Roger thought that his ears are playing with him. _I’m sorry. Did_ _Brian_ _just_ …?

“And it wasn’t a pleasant experience,” Brian starts explaining, words coming out his mouth so fast. “I was drunk. It was a horrible mistake! This girl’s friends keeps on telling me to go after her and told me that she fancied me a long time. So we’re at this party in one of our mate’s flat. I was intoxicated. I thought she’ll like it if I’ll come over to her and surprise her with kiss. Only to be ended up getting slapped...”

 _Well_ _you_ _deserved_ _that_ , _you_   _prat!_

“Well that’s… embarrassing…” Clare pointed out flatly, eyes judging.

“I know,” Brian looked so guilty right now. “And to make it worst, she’s a classmate of mine on of my classes. I think I spent almost a year apologizing to her. But then after the graduation ceremony, she told me that _did_ liked the kiss. And asked for another one as a graduation present.”

The more that he listens to the story, Roger could feel the irritation raising his chest.

“And did you… kiss her again?”

“Well she  _asked_ …” Brian answered, raising both shoulders.

“You know, you’re supposed to be her _tutor_ ,” Roger is now imagining that he’s painfully pulling Brian’s curls until they become straight. Pin straight.

So there is this naughty part of Brian that he hasn’t discovered yet…

“I know,” Brian sighed. “So, Clare when you’re at a party, make sure that you’re mostly surrounded with your girl friends. Also, make sure to only drink enough that you can handle.”

“Don’t be quickly fooled. Even the bloke is as charming as Brian,” Roger aims at his boyfriend, bitterly.

“Shut up, Roger,” Brian scowls. Then his eyes twinkled, as if he remembered something, “If I’m not mistaken, there is actually _someone_ that you kissed with the _person’s_ consent.”

“ _What_ in the fuck are you talking about, May?”

 _Really_ , _what_ _the_ _fuck_ _is_ _he_ _on_ _about?_

“Is that true, Roger?” Clare eyed him suspiciously.

“Oh! It is true!” Brian said. “Roger only got lucky because this _person_ likes him back.”

Sending him a dagger look, the mansion’s heir finally realized that the “person” Brian is pertaining to, was no one, but the bastard _himself_. Well…err… that’s technically true. He didn’t exactly asked for Brian’s consent the first time he kissed him. Roger just went along with his instincts.

But let’s just say Roger didn’t actually went along with his instincts that night, would Brian be brave and confess himself?

 _Uh_ - _uh_ , _bitch!_  Roger doesn’t think so.

“Was it Debbie?” Clare snaps him out-of-his thoughts.

“What?”

“The person Brian is pertaining to. Was it Debbie?”

“Y- Yeah… it’s Debbie.”

‘ _No_ _it_ _wasn’t!_ ’ Roger’s subconscious judging him smugly. ‘ _The_ _poor_ _girl_.’

“I _knew_ it!” Clare snaps her finger. “It’s not a secret that she’s been in love with you, even before you were engaged with her.”

Roger stared at his sister. It’s his first time hearing this. In fact, Debbie only allowed him to kiss her after their third date.

“And it was one of the hugest gossips in the Academy when I was in Year 4. A lot of girls in my class asked me about it! Especially, you know, both Dom and Deb are two of the popular girls and both Head Girls.”

“Ah! So Mr. Roger Taylor here is really ‘Mr. Popular-with-the-ladies’, huh?” Brian smirked at his direction.

“He’s _fine_ ,” Clare grinned back. Roger decides to ignore them both.

  
          Afterwards, Roger called it a night. But not after a steamy snogging session inside Brian’s bedroom that _almost_ escalates to the next level. Only until Roger snaps back to reality that he have to wake up early the next day. Or else, their surprise birthday present for Brian will be put to waste.

It was a good thing that Clare no longer ask for Brian to read her bedtime stories. _Thank_ _goodness!_  That gives him and Brian more time together before they go to sleep.

“Please don’t tell me you’re not going to sleep with me tonight,” Brian looks at him with those large, innocent eyes, as he’s not-so-innocently reaching out for Roger’s trousers. “It’s my birthday tomorrow. And I don’t have a class. I want _you_ to be the first thing I’ll lay my eyes on.”

‘ _Should’ve_ _given_ _him_ _some_ _of_ _Valerian_ _root_ _tea_ ’ Roger mentally clucked his tongue. Swatting his boyfriend’s hands, he leaps off the bed. “No, Brian.”

“Roger, darling, you’re breaking my heart,” pulling him back as Roger tucks him in, Brian is still not giving up. “Please…? For my birthday tomorrow?”

Giving his boyfriend a once-over, who was already dressed in silk pyjamas, Roger sat on the side of the bed. Firmly, he stands on his ground even though the request is so fucking inviting, he almost caves in. “Have you forgotten that it’s _your_ suggestion that we don’t sleep together every night? Or else, our sleeping arrangement will become obvious?”

“But we slept separately last night,” Brian rebutted, crossing his arms. “And two nights before that. Should I kneel down and beg for you to stay?”

‘ _While_   _he’s_ _kneeling_ , _would_ _he_ _suck_ _you_ _off_ _as_ _well?_ ’ it was Roger’s evil subconscious speaking. ‘ _Don’t_ _tell_ _me_ _you’re_ _fine_ _with_ _JUST_ _handjobs? There’s more to that.’_

“No, Brian,” Roger repeated, ignoring the teasing voice in his head. Just as he was about to lean and gives him the last goodnight kiss, Brian dodges his lips as the tutor turned his head to the side. “Shouldn’t you be asking for _my_ _consent_ before you kiss me, Mr. Taylor? Practice what you preach, yeah.”

“Brian, please,” Roger let out an exasperated sigh. “I promise you, I’m the first person you’ll see tomorrow.”

“Alright. Fine,” Brian groaned and finally accepts his kiss. Once they parted, Roger smiled at him sweetly.

Fixing himself in front of Brian’s mirror, he heard his boyfriend again. “I think I _know_ the reason why you won’t sleep with me tonight.”

Roger just raised his eyebrow, even though he starts to feel nervous. _Fuck!_ _Don’t_ _tell_ _me_ _he_ _already_ _found_   _out!_

“You’re mad because of the story I’ve just shared with you and Clare. The girl that I drunkenly kissed…”

 _Oh!_ Roger mentally exhaled. Actually, he had already forgotten about it. Now that Brian mentioned it again, the thought annoyed him again. So, he’ll take it to his advantage and use that as a given excuse. “To be honest, yeah, that still ticks me.”

“What? That’s bollocks, Roger!” Brian sputtered. “And I don’t even like her! Darling, can you come here so I can make it up to you, please?”

Roger looks over his shoulder. Of course, he wouldn’t want his boyfriend to sleep with a heavy and worrying heart. Especially, since it’s his birthday tomorrow. So, he let himself melts inside Brian’s arm, and let him kiss him.

“I love you,” Roger breathed against Brian’s lips, catching his breath. Those pretty three-little-words made his boyfriend’s gaze softens and blushes. Taking the advantage as Brian still looks like he’s still in cloud-nine, Roger leaves him a kiss on his cheek. “See you in the morning.”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

           At exactly six the morning the next day, Roger gently wakes his sister up. “ _Bonjour_ , _ma_ _petite_ _princesse!_ We have to bake Brian’s birthday cake.”

Roger _hates_ waking up early. He couldn’t even remember when was the last time he has to wake up before nine. Clare stirred and smiles at him groggily. “Wow…Roger. I can’t believe that you did _managed_ to wake up this early.”

He hands her a glass of water as she sits up. “Prep up and I’ll see you in the kitchen.”

Nodding obediently, Clare stretches and hops off the bed. Roger smiled to himself, as he didn’t expect that waking his sister up would be _this_ easy. He half-expects that Clare will be grumpy and tell him to bake the cake himself, since she also used to be asleep around this hour as her classes with Brian starts at eight o’clock; Clare normally wakes up at seven.  
Roger had overheard maids before —mostly Jade— complaining quietly, how it was a challenging task to wake the mansion’s little monster…err...mistress.

But this is  _for_ Brian. Naturally, Clare’s cooperation will be expected to be given in a heartbeat.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee awakens Roger’s senses as he pads through from the dining hall and the main kitchen. Growing up, Roger adored the semi-gothic design of it.  
It wasn’t the original plan his grandfather created. It was his father’s idea to change it the last two minutes. And that made his Grandfather hates Mr. Taylor even _more_.

“Where did you get the inspiration from? ‘The door with seven locks’?” Mr. Taylor have a straight face as he mimics his father-in-law’s voice, that never fail to leave Roger and his mum in stitches. His mother would go crazy whenever his Dad copy Mr. Hickman’s voice, tone, facial expression, and body gesture— because they’re so fucking on-point!

Hanging above his head is a ginormous antique brass chandelier that was imported from Romania. When they were little, Roger would tell Clare that it used to belong to Count Dracula. He would tell her that if she’s gonna act like a brat, the lights will turn into big bats and eat her. Clare would be so scared, she’ll ran directly to their parents bedroom and would refuse to sleep in her own. Much to Mr. and Mrs. Taylor’s dismay.

Also, one Halloween, four years ago, they all dressed up as The Addams family (compete with black wigs) and take photos in the kitchen as it fits the aesthetics. They all loved it.

The handpicked Victorian red and black quirky patterned tiles originated from Salisbury. The only things that have been replaced were the appliances that his mother mostly imported from Germany, America, and Japan.

“Good morning, Roger,” Chef Solomon, the Taylor’s private Chef since Roger was four or five-ish (that’s why he does not use honorifics), greeted him in complete uniform as he sips his coffee, standing next to the range cooker.

“Morning, Chef!” Roger smiles back and pour himself a cup of coffee. It’s still dark outside as he moved his gaze towards the kitchen’s large casement windows.

“Is Clare awake?”

“Yep. I just woke her up. She should be here in a minute or so.”

“And our birthday boy?”

“He’s still asleep… I hope…” Roger prays, making his way to the kitchen’s table. “Or else it’ll spoil the surprise.”

The oven made a _ping!_  sound, and all of the sudden, something heavenly floats in the air.

“Oh! _Yes!_ ” Roger’s smile and eyes widens as he saw Chef Solomon places a still-hot baking tray in front of him: omelet breakfast cups!  
Scraping the wooden chair back, he immediately grabs some saucers and forks from the glass China cabinet. He almost salivates as the Chef serves him two cups. “Thank you, Chef!”

“That one have cheese and bacon. The other batch that is still cooking is all-vegetables. For Brian.”

The taste rolled inside Roger’s mouth deliciously, “Oh! These are so _gooh-d!_ ”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Chef Solomon takes the opposite chair. “So we’re going to make strawberry chocolate birthday cake, right?”

“Yes, Chef Sol,” Roger nods as he swallows. “The last time you made one, Brian liked it so much—he _inhaled_ five slices of it in one sitting.”

“Oh! Did he?” the corner of the Chef’s eyes crinkles as he smiles at Roger fondly. “By the way, what time are you kids leaving to Feltham?”

“After breakfast.”

Chef Solomon resumes nursing his coffee while Roger devours his breakfast. A couple of beats passed. 

When he looks up, he saw the Chef’s gray eyes on him. “I’m so happy that you’re _finally_ back, Roger.” Then he reaches out and touched Roger on the arm. “I’m so proud of you, young man.”

Speechless, Roger couldn’t even chew the food in his mouth.

“Thank you for allowing yourself to let go of the baggages. And for starting again.”

Roger breaks the eye-contact and look at the half-eaten food in his plate. He had known Chef Solomon since he was little. And he knew that this man is a man-of-few-words. That’s why his parents have high respect of him. The other helpers, too. Biting the insides of his cheek, Roger simply replied with, “Thank you, Chef Sol.”

Shaking his copper-colored hair, the man smiles broadly, “Thank _you_ , Roger. For allowing me to see you grow older.”

The words touched Roger to the core of his soul. How he wishes he could’ve heard those words during those dark days wherein he wants to end everything. But the Chef is not allowed to meddle with the family affair. And Roger doesn’t even want to come out from his bedroom back then. All he wanted is to rot and die. So he could be with his father.

As Roger blink back the tears, Clare’s voice rang from across the room. “Good morning, Chef Sol!”

“G’ morning, Princess Clare,” Chef Solomon greeted back. “Join your brother and have some breakfast here. Then we can start making the birthday cake.”

“Can we take pictures as well?” Clare happily shows the camera in her hands.

“Absolutely!”

“Ooh! Omelet cups! My favorite!” Clare squeals as she gets her own chair and finally join him for breakfast.

Roger sends Chef Solomon a grateful smile. Perhaps, there are really people that loves him and he’s not just aware of.

  
        After they ate, Chef Solomon supervised the two of them as they make the cake. Clare was assigned to cut the strawberries into quarter size pieces while Roger mixes the other ingredients together. Roger caught glimpses of Chef Solomon smiling as he takes their picture, as he and his sister works together. They both take their turn to take photos with the Chef. Who, surprisingly, gamely poses with them. What a blissful way to start his boyfriend’s birthday.

Once Clare is occupied with the piping bag as she concentrates to write “ _Happy_ _Birthday_ , _Brian_ ” on the finished cake, Roger carefully slips out and make his make way to his boyfriend’s bedroom with the frosting still sticky on his cheek and some left on his hair.

Quietly, Roger tiptoes towards Brian’s bed after soundlessly locking the door. He softly chuckles as he looks at the bundled body of his lover under the duvet. “Good morning, Brian. Happy Birthday.”

But Brian didn’t move nor react. Thinking that Brian is just pretending that he’s still asleep, Roger lifts the duvet to surprise him with a tickle attack. Only to find a bunch of pillows underneath. “Brian?”

 _The_ _fuck?_

Roger’s eyes wander around the room. Just as he was about to take a step to check if Brian is in the bathroom, Roger felt two arms behind him and pulling him for a back hug. Then lifts the hair off his neck and felt warm lips there. Immediately, a grin spreads across his face. “Happy Birthday, _mon_ _amour_.”

“Thank you, love,” Roger just loves the fact that Brian’s voice can go from gentle and soothing to ferociously sexy, that gives him delicious shivers all over his body. “Although, I’m a bit jealous that you greeted the _pillows_ first.”

Roger just laughs and turn around to face his lover. Brian’s just radiating that his heart skips a beat. “Good morning, birthday boy.”

“Good morning, sire,” closing in the little space they have, Brian kisses him. And Roger swooned.

“Hhmmnn…?”

“What?”

“Your lips…tastes so sweet…” Brian pulls back, brows furrowed, then gives him a peck. “ _Literally_. Is that chocolate?”

 _Oh!_ Roger chuckles. “Well, come downstairs with me so you’ll know why.”

“Can we have a few more minutes? Alone?” Brian pleads, making a puppy-eyed look. “I think I already _know_ what’s your surprise is. And I love it. Thank you. I just want to be with you for now, Roger.”

Wobbling with the sweetest words first thing in the morning, Roger wouldn’t say no to him. “Okay. Just five minutes though.”

Brian responded with a smile as if he just won the lottery.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

      The five-hour car drive to Feltham was long and boring. Roger takes a glance towards Clare as she was already knocked out after an hour they left the mansion. Her head is resting on Brian’s arm, her gold ringlets everywhere.

Brian, who is sandwiched between him and Clare, is currently focused with yet another Lewis’ book. Roger tried to copy him and open his own hardbound copy of Kerouac, but his eyes starts to hurt, so he placed the book down.

Roger just don’t understand how some people, like Brian, can sit through a long-ass car drive while reading a book to kill time, and yet their eyes wouldn’t burn and sting.

“Another from Lewis?” Roger tries to make a conversation. Even though in reality, he’s really itching to kiss Brian.

“Mmm-hmm…” Brian didn’t even bother to look at him.

If only Clare went with their mother first and there’s no chauffeur driving them, Roger can only imagine a nice, sexy car sex with Brian on the very backseat of their Cadillac they’re sitting on. An interesting way to celebrate Brian’s birthday.

Afraid that Clare might suddenly wake up and their chauffeur might notice them from the rearview mirror, Roger couldn’t even hold his boyfriend’s hand.

Letting out an irritated groan, Roger turned to his side, looks at the car’s open window. Exeter’s endless trees seems that it goes on bloody forever.

 _Ugh!_  Roger flips to Brian again and buried his face on his boyfriend’s arm and side, with his arms crossed on his chest.

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Roger?” Pierre, their chauffeur, asked.

“No,” Roger replied, shortly. “I’m fine.”

Brian sends him an apologetic look. Perhaps, he’s feeling the same way.

Carefully, Brian takes the pillow on Clare’s hip and places it on the top of his lap to prop his younger sister’s head. Then Brian reaches out for his shoulder bag that’s on his feet. Roger saw him taking a sheet of paper and pen and scribbles something on it.

“Roger, read this part,” Brian passes him the book with the note inside. “It’s really funny.”

𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓴𝓪𝔂? — 𝓑𝓻𝓲.

Roger internally sighed, letting out a fake snort. It sucks that this is their only way to communicate.

𝐹𝒾𝓃𝑒. 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃.

After reading what he wrote back, Brian bites his lower lip as he blushes.

𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓽 𝓶𝓮 — 𝔁, 𝓑𝓻𝓲.

And Roger wouldn’t want anything that moment but to press his lips to Brian’s. Suddenly, a smart idea clicks Roger’s brain. He takes the forgotten blanket that has been resting on side and places it to cover him and Brian’s side. And just like a pain-reliever, Roger closes his eyes and relaxes his back as his and Brian’s hands finds their way together. _This_ … this would be enough for now.

  
          Roger was awoken by Brian the moment they arrived at Hilton Garden Inn, around three in the afternoon.

“Where are we?” Clare rubs her eyes, looking around the valet.

“This is where Mum is staying at,” Roger answered his sister. “Where exactly is this place, Brian?”

“Heathrow.”

A uniformed valet staff opened the backseat’s door for them. Roger was the one who stepped out first, fastening his messenger bag on his shoulder and taking his jacket. He takes Clare’s hand bag as Brian helps her out the car after she smoothens the skirt of her peach dress.

“Hello, children!” Mr. Edmund beamed at them in his beige Oxford suit. “Mrs. Taylor’s been waiting for you.”

Clare hold his and Brian’s hand as they followed their mother’s assistant to their rooms after they checked-in.

Looking at the hotel’s high ceiling, empire chandelier, and elegant spiral staircase, Roger realized that it’s been a year since he’s been to a hotel, after his father’s death. He turns to Brian and finds him surprisingly calm. Maybe, he’s been into this hotel before. Not because he’s poor it doesn’t mean that he wasn’t able to step into these type of establishments like this. _Right_?

“I used to wait on tables on this hotel before. For College tuition,” Brian told them, answering Roger’s unvoiced question. “My Uncle knows the Manager.”

“Wow! Brian, you must’ve been a busy man back then,” Clare commented. “You said you’ve been a life-guard as well, right?”

“Right. But that’s only for part-time,” Brian nods. “If Mrs. Taylor will allow, we can have a little tour in the city tomorrow.”

“We would love that,” Roger smiled at his boyfriend.

Then Mr. Edmund stops walking, and showed them the room. “Madame, the children’s here.”

Clad in a floral cocktail dress and purple high-heels, Mrs.Taylor was just wrapping up the call as she stood up and waves at them. “Yes, I understand. Yes. I gotta go. My children are here. Good bye.”

She gave each of them a kiss, greeted Brian, and wraps Clare’s arms around her slim waist. “Would you like to lie down first, or are you hungry? I can order room service.”

“I just wanna lie down,” Roger click his joints. His back, butt cheeks, and tailbone really feels sore.

“Me too, Mum,” Clare pouted.

“Okay, if that’s it, Clare this is our room,” Mrs. Taylor gestured the King-size cotton white bed of her suite. “Then Brian, you can just stay at Roger’s room for now.”

Roger internally celebrated upon hearing that. Actually, he still have some energy left for some bed-action with the birthday boy. _Fuck_ , _yes!_

“Um…” Brian awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “I was thinking of going home to my parents after we were dropped off here.”

_What!?_

“What?” Clare immediately drops the shoe that she just removed. “No, Brian. Stay here for now.”

“Well…”

“Didn’t you say you’re supposed to see them tomorrow anyway?” Mrs. Taylor takes a hold of Brian’s hands. She can really be persuasive if she wants to. And Roger hopes that his mother can persuade Brian to stay. “I’ve already booked us a reservation for your birthday dinner.”

“But, Madame, that’s too much—”

“Edmund, show the boys their room.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“But, Madame, really—”

“ _Brian_ _Harold_ _May_ ,” the moment Mrs. Taylor called his boyfriend’s full fucking name as a warning —and sounding like Brian’s actual _mother_ — made him shut up.

It was really scary. Roger and Clare mirrored each other’s expression, mouths formed a small ‘o’. Then they secretly snickered. It’s not everyday that they see Brian May, aka. ‘Mr. Perfect’ being lectured in front of them. It was a sight, really.

“Y-Yes, Madame,” Brian finally surrendered. Mrs. Taylor beamed at him. “See you and Roger, later at seven. Alright? Roger, don’t let him escape.”

Securing Brian’s waist with his arm, Roger winks at his mother. “Oh! I won’t, Mum.”

Of course, he won’t. Definitely not.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

         “Roger, I—” Brian’s wet back burns against his chest. It’s nice that the tub in his room is big enough to fit the two of them.

They had a nice nap before Brian’s scrumptious birthday dinner. Now, it’s time for some sweet, sweet _dessert_.

Head tipped back on Roger’s shoulder, exposing his long and warm neck. The blond heir watches in grim fascination how his boyfriend’s eyes would snap open then roll at the back of his head, glistening red lips gasping for air to support his labored breathing. Nuzzling Brian’s wet jaw with the tip of his nose, Roger shivered with the sound of pretty moans that escapes his lover’s mouth.

“Roger… you…you’re—” How adorable. His beautiful birthday boy couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “... _oh! Fuck!”_

Teasing him so, Roger would slow down the movements of his hand, then surprisingly go faster making Brian hiss, groan, and bucks wildly at the same time. Securing him well on his proper position, Roger tightens his other free arm and straps it in-front of Brian’s chest like a seatbelt.

“Shh…” suppressing the moan that almost escapes his mouth, as the head of his hard cock rubs against the small back of Brian’s, Roger continued pleasuring his lover’s throbbing, hard dick. As if Roger couldn’t get any luckier; his boyfriend’s not only gorgeous, charming, and smart, Brian’s also endowed.  
“No. Not yet, sweetheart…”

The bubbly water gets warmer and warmer by the second. And Brian’s cries and moans also getting louder, echoing erotically inside the luxurious marbled bathroom.

Roger sensually thumbs Brian’s meatus every long, upward stroke and drags his tongue against the sensitive vein of his neck. As if electrocuted, Brian grips the edge of the tub in panic. Just as Brian was to say something, with his pretty mouth open —most probably to whine— he immediately silenced him with a full kiss, enough to drive him more crazy. The position of their heads is quite uncomfortable, and his nails are already leaving crescent marks on Brian’s shoulder, but Roger is craving for _more_.

Brian practically gasped once they parted. His brows furrowed with his eyes shut. “Roger… I…I’m close…”

Roger bites his lower lip. He would want to stretch it longer though. But just one look at his boyfriend’s face, he looks like he’s already been _tortured_ enough. So he picks up his pace and showered his boyfriend’s cheek soft — almost chaste— kisses, until Brian tenses up against his hold and screamed his name.  
  
While Brian comes down from his high, head rested on the side of the tub with his arm as support, Roger gets a hold of himself and starts stroking.

“W-Wait… I’ll do it… Roger,” still panting, Brian touches his arm. “Let me just…”

“No, I want you to watch me, birthday boy,” smiling with confidence, Roger replied shortly. And Brian did.

Though after a couple of minutes, Roger regretted it. The hunger that he saw in Brian’s eyes on him is just too much. The way he swallowed and licks his lower lip is a new scene to Roger. And it seems that Brian doesn’t realize it himself. He almost looks like a fucking predator ready to pounce on his meal!

“You know what, I changed my mind— don’t watch,” suddenly self-conscious, Roger immediately covered his boyfriend’s eyes with his free hand. Brian grabs on his hand and peel it off his face.

“But…I want to…” even though he looks a bit exhausted, Brian was smiling slyly as he looks up at him. “You’re such a sight…”

Kicking himself inside, Roger just closes his eyes. Focusing on the sensation of his hand and the warmth feeling that is pooling in his stomach. Sucking on his lower lip, he was forced to open his eyes again when he felt the Brian moved and starts ghosting kisses on his neck, his chest, nipping on a hard nipple. Then he goes gratifying slow right when he reached Roger’s stomach down to his navel…

“Bri— NO!” this time it was Roger who grips on the edge of the tub in panic, when the side of Brian’s face almost made contact with his plump head. He let go of himself and pushed Brian’s face away, a little forceful than he intended to. “S- Sorry…”

‘ _Yeeeeessss!!!!_ ’ meanwhile, the evil voice at the back of Roger’s mind cheered.

Brian doesn’t seem to mind. It also seems that he had already recovered some energy. “Then let _me_ touch you. Switch with me, your highness.”

Gently guiding Roger to do their previous position, Brian wrapped his hand around him and picks up where Roger left. Taking a hold on the side of his face, Roger thought that Brian will kiss him.

Not really. Instead, Brian lewdly pushes a thumb inside Roger’s mouth and softly presses the pad on his hot tongue, that he tastes the soap. The whole sensation makes it feel that as if his whole body is on fire. Roger could hear himself helplessly moaning in pleasure, almost couldn’t even recognize his own voice. “Brian… oh—!”

Brian slip out his thumb and cups his under jaw to finally kiss him. The moment his back helplessly arched, Roger knew it was over.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while. Content with the comfortable silence between them. Roger’s face pressed on Brian’s smooth chest, his ear could hear his lover’s steady heartbeat. Then seconds later, Brian slides his hand on Roger’s arm. “Let’s rinse off?”

Brian turns on the shower and waits for the temperature to warm up, before he pulls Roger under it. Kissing and caressing each other here and there were the only things they’ve done. Which is actually fine. After patting dry their bodies and both clad in white fluffy bath robes, Brian half dry his and Roger’s hair with the hair dryer.

Taking the left-over bottle of champagne (from Brian’s birthday dinner) from the mini-bar, Roger half-filled two glasses and hands the other one to Brian.

“Wait. Let’s take photos first,” Brian suggested. Then he gestured Roger to lie down on the bed with the glass on his hand. Gamely getting along with Brian’s idea, he strikes a pose. And Brian laughs. After four shots, Roger takes the camera and let Brian pose for him. He couldn’t stop grinning.

Back on the soft bed, the camera forgotten, they toast for Brian and for their relationship.

“This is the best birthday ever so far,” dreamily, Brian takes a hold of his hand. “And I’ll have another celebration tomorrow—I can’t wait to introduce you to my parents and to my other friends.”

“I can’t wait to meet them either,” taking a sip of his drink, Roger stares at their intertwined hands. He allowed himself to be marveled with the fact that they fit so perfectly. For someone who have had experience working for multiple jobs, Brian’s hands are just flawless: delicate, enviably long fingers, and neatly trimmed nails.

Heart skipping a beat as he looks up, he found Brian drinking the sight of him. Downing the remaining of his glass, Brian didn’t tear his eyes away from Roger as he places the glass on the top of the night stand on his side of the bed. When Brian kissed him, lips purely tasting like Möet, electricity coarse through him from the top his head and down to his tippy toes.

“Roger, you’re so beautiful,” praise sounding like a prayer, Brian’s eyes scans his face. “Too beautiful. Sometimes, I couldn’t help to wonder if this is all but a dream. Because I can’t still believe you’re _mine_.”

Roger brought Brian’s hand to his lips and grazes on his knuckles. He watches and listen to his boyfriend as he continue with his endless compliments towards him.

“You’re like an angel…. you’re perfect… Roger, I love you…”

He knows that the line should give him a heartwarming feeling, especially as it looks like that Brian truly _means_ them. But Roger ended up snorting, as he pulls back.

“What?” looking confused at the same time a little bit offended, Brian asked.

Roger shakes his head, still stopping himself from laughing as he places his own glass on his night stand. “Your words are just _too_ _much_ sometimes, Brian.”

“What do you mean, Roger? I’m just saying the truth.”

Rolling his eyes, Roger lays back down and pressed a kiss on Brian’s temple. “I believe you, Brian. But let’s be real: I’m not perfect.”

“But you are to me,” Brian disagreed, brows furrowed that only disappeared as he tucks his chin for a swift kiss on the lips. “Not just your angelic face. Every part of your body. Every inch of you. I can kiss them all day, everyday, and I’d still crave for more.”  
The kiss went down to his jaw, to his neck and exposed collarbones. “Your kind and carefree soul.”

It seems that Brian can go on all-night with his words of worship. It’s not that Roger doesn’t like them—heck, he _loves_ hearing them spill out from Brian’s mouth! Even though they’re a bit sappy sometimes...

Taking Brian’s face, Roger look into those mesmerizing hazel eyes that are now quite glassy and hinted with lust. “Just like any other normal human being, I _do_ have insecurities too, you know.”

Brian didn’t say anything and rolled his eyes. Obviously not believing him.

“Honey, let me take off your rose-colored glasses, alright?” it’s an uncomfortable feeling, but Roger thinks its only fine to open up to Brian with his insecurities as early as possible. “When I was younger, I’ve been called with so many names: ‘corpse-y’, ‘midget’ and the worst, ‘pig-nose’…”

Brian’s eye twitched. “That’s fucking bollocks! Your nose’s fine. Why did they call you the other two?”

“Well, because my nose used to be a little fat and upturned— thank goodness! It got slimmer as I grow older,” now that he’s talking about it, Roger _unconsciously_ pinched his nose. Getting a weird chill as he remembers some of his classmates and some of his relatives calling him with that name.

As if assuring him that his nose looks fine, Brian leans in to kiss the tip of his nose. And Roger just melts inside.

“Anyway… I was home schooled from when I was seven till I was nine, because I was a frail child and shorter than most boys,” Roger trailed his eyes on the hotel’s ceiling. “And because of that, I was bullied… a lot… when I attended the normal school on my early years.”

“Oh…” Brian looks flabbergasted. “I didn’t know that that was the reason. I couldn’t imagine _you_ , being bullied.”

“Would it be more believable if I say I was the ‘bully’?”

“Um… yeah…”

Jokingly, Roger knocks Brian’s forehead lightly. “Prat. Why would you think that?”

“Because, you’re rich and good-looking,” Brian explained, apparently _still_ not getting it. “If we were on the same school, I would imagine you being the class’ Prince, being bowed down to by every student. Teachers love you. And you have this bunch of kids that would probably bully _me_ and my nerdy, uncool friends.”

“What?” Roger chuckled. “I knew it’s a good thing that we set this clear as early as possible. I didn’t know that you have this false image of my childhood.”

Brian’s eyes softens. “Okay then. I won’t interrupt anymore. Keep going.”

And Roger did. He narrates to Brian how his parents had brought him to different specialists to grow into a “normal child”. He told him how it was a pain to keep up with other kids— that he would throw up just running and few minutes of playing. How one Doctor said that Roger might have Autism, and how some of his cousins (who overheard from their parents, probably) avoided and teased him for it. There’s even a point, wherein they didn’t attended his birthday parties, or Roger wasn’t invited to theirs. How the wealth of their family didn’t give him an exemption _not_ to be bullied, as the other children also came from affluent families themselves.

And once he turned eleven, that was the time where everything changed. He finally gained a good chunk of weight, he grown more inches, and he becomes healthier. He joined the lacrosse and tennis club. Some girls noticed him. Some still ignored him, because to them, he’s _still_ that loser Roger Taylor. Then he found his own group of mates.

He had finally confessed to Brian, on how he waited in vain for his first ever crush, Eileen Wright, a daughter of a wealthy lawyer, to confess to him. Only to date one of his friends in front of his eyes. Then another girl, Jill Johnson, a daughter of a music producer. She was interested at first. But then she got bored with how Roger was “naïve and bland” all throughout their first and last date at a café bistro. The next thing Roger knew, she had moved to another country.

That the first girl that he was able to call his very first “girlfriend” was Dominique. It was after they got engaged, when they were both fourteen.

“Four- _Fourteen_?!” Brian looks at him as if he just grown a horn on his forehead.

Then something happened with the marriage agreement between the Beyrand’s and Taylor’s (but it’s more on his Grandfather’s) so it was off, before even Roger turn fifteen. Then four months later, another proposal was served and Debbie became his younger, second girl. Another conflict rose, and Roger lost another fiancé three weeks before his sixteenth birthday.

“So, I hope I was able to clarify some things up, Mr. May,” Roger wraps up his story there. Brian was quiet for a long while, eyes on him. “I told you I wasn’t the perfect person from your imagination.”

“I know that,” Brian smiled at him, delicately. “But, to _me_ you are.”

Flipping himself over to be on top of him, he caresses Roger’s face gently. “Thank you for allowing me to step into your world even more. And I thought I couldn’t love you more than I do right now.”

Roger gasps when he felt Brian’s hand drags down to unlace the ribbon of his robe. Proceeding to stroke his half-hard member.

“Um… Brian—?” whatever Roger was supposed to say was quickly cut-off with a kiss. He doesn’t even remember _what_ he’s going to say.

“I love you,” Brian quickly looks at him before trailing kisses to his collarbones.

There. There goes _that_ look again. The one that Roger saw a while ago. Brian repeating the same pattern that he did while they’re in the tub.

 _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ So the bastard is really aiming at his cock.

“Bri— Brian! Brian! _Brian!_ Wait!” Roger immediately props himself up on his elbows, forcing Brian to sit up as well and let go of him. “Sorry! Wait!”

After scratching the back of his neck, Brian crossed his arms over his chest, kneeling on the bed. “What is it now, Roger?” he sounds exasperated yet dangerously sexy at the same time.

“I— uh…” fixing and lacing his robe again, Roger has to come up for perfect a distraction. _He_ should be giving the birthday boy the head first, not the other way around! And just feeling his raging boner straining against the fluffy cotton robe, he knew that Brian will use that as the advantage to suck him off first. Bouncing off the bed, Roger almost trips over.

“Where are you going?”

“Just—” Roger raised a hand in the air, asking him to be patient. “Wait there.”

Opening the cabinet, Roger calms himself down. He doesn’t have any choice. This is the _only_ way to distract Brian. He’s planning to give it to him tomorrow. But might give it to him right now, since technically, today is his birthday.

“Roger? What are you doing there, love?” Brian didn’t bother hiding the sound of his impatience. “You planning to lock yourself there?”

“Yes!” Roger sarcastically answered as he rummages through his bag. “And if you still won’t shut up I will not give you this present.”

“What? You have another present?” Brian exclaimed.

“Yes! So you better be still and close your eyes.”

“O-Okay…”

After taking the present from his bag, Roger takes a peek of Brian to make sure that his eyes were close. Always the obedient one, indeed they were.

“No peeking,” Roger dips down back to the bed and watches the listless Brian, on the same position where he left him. Taking the pillows, Roger places one on Brian’s lap, put both of his open hands there then places the gift. Arranging himself in front of his boyfriend, he takes the the other pillow on his lap, pretty much just to cover his modesty. “Okay. You may open your eyes now.”

Brian’s eyes landed on a square shaped thing on his lap. “I thought the cake was the gift.”

“Of course not,” Roger disagreed. “Open it.”

Flicking his eyes to Roger, Brian lifts the box and slightly shakes it. “It’s quite heavy… is this a book?”

“You know you can wreck the gift wrapper,” anticipation building up, Roger rolled his eyes, as Brian starts to carefully unwraps the gift.

“I don’t wanna make a mess on the bed,” concentrating, Brian’s delicate fingers working on it. Then he adds, winking, “That’ll be for _later_.”  
Grunting as he realized that he just unwrapped the first layer of wrapping paper, Brian looks at the second white paper wrapper. “What? There’s another one? And what’s with this red seal thing?”

“Brian, just wake me up once you’re done unwrapping…” Roger jokingly lie down, but only to reach for his unfinished drink. The sound of the wax seals popping and paper being torn echoed through the room for a couple of minutes.

Brian’s eyes went wide as saucers as he finally unwraps Roger’s gift to him. Inside was a ruby red jewelry box, designed with gold accents on its sides. “What is this?”

Roger just mysteriously smiles at his boyfriend over the rim of the glass.

“Whoa! WHAT!?” Brian was left jaw-slacked. Roger just gotten the reaction that he’s been waiting for. “You like it?”

Speechless, Brian carefully lifts the red guitar locket from the box and softly pulling the white gold chain. He gasped when saw his name engraved behind it. “Roger… it’s…” then he opens the locket and found a photo of Roger inside. Brian’s lower lip trembled and swallows, before he started tearing up. “It’s _perfect_ …” 

Roger quickly places the drink back and wraps his arms around his boyfriend. Brian was beyond touched and overwhelmed. He clings to Roger like a vice, as he cry happy tears. He just kept on saying, “Roger, thank you” and “Roger, I love you” over and over, up until he calms down.

“Let me get you some glass of water, okay?” Roger kissed his forehead and heads to the mini bar again. After that, Brian quickly disappeared to the bathroom to fix himself up.

“Come here,” Roger reaches to Brian to join him again on the bed. Taking his gift, he knelt in-front of his boyfriend and secures the necklace around his neck. “It suits you so well as I expected. You looked gorgeous, Brian.”

Blushing shyly, Brian curled his lips together as he looks at Roger. Then his fingers reaches it to touch. “Roger, this is one-of-a-kind. It’s my Red Special. And _you’re_ inside it.” Then his brows starts to furrow, “But… is this too expensive? I don’t want you spending lavishly on me.”

Roger shakes his head. “Mum, knows the Cartiers’. I got a huge discount. After I found out about your birthday, I told her that I would wanna give you something. Then I thought about on giving you a locket, then she made a call and I was asked to go to the store to have it personalized.”

That was a white lie. Roger did get some discount, but it wasn’t exactly a huge discount. The locket itself already cost a small fortune. Good thing he still have some money left hidden on his safe. He doesn't use them anyway. Moreover, he couldn’t bare to ask his mother for money for Brian’s gift.

“Oh! So that’s why you were gone that day,” Brian always the observant one. “You said you were going to a dental and eye check up.”

“Well, I did went to the check up afterwards,” Roger crawls over and sits on the top of the pillow on Brian’s lap. Ready to deliver his final present for that night, Roger leans in to kiss his lover.

Eagerly, Brian responded in an equal passion.

Hand on face, fingers on hair, tongues teasing each other, soft caresses, sighs and moans of pleasure. They’ve never tried that position before, and it’s spine-chilling intimate.

Hand smoothing down from Brian’s shoulder to his chest, he slightly lifts his butt up to remove the pillow. He tries to distracts Brian by kissing his neck. But then as he reaches out to pull the ribbon of his robe, Roger almost squawked when Brian grasped on his hand.

“W-What?”

In a blink of an eye, Roger’s back is on the bed and Brian on top of him. Smirking, Brian loudly kissed his cheek. “It’s my birthday, right? I get to blow _first_.”

_Fuck! How did he—?_

“No, Brian, it’s your fucking birthday. So you’ll be the one who is getting a blowy from _me_.”

“No, Roger. You promised weeks ago, you said _yourself_ that I can have you for my birthday.”

“That was a joke, Brian.”

And then… out-of-nowhere… they both started acting like total knobheads.

They wrestle each other out, trying to dominate each other. There’s tickling, licking, pushing, pulling, pinning down each other onto the mattress, and just kissing messily.

“Oh my god! Brian! Just.lie.the.fuck.down!” Roger was trying to straddle him whilst Brian is pushing him back on the bed. “No, Roger! _I_ was the one who initiate it! I’ve been trying to do it since we’re in that fucking tub, but you keep on refusing!”

“Because I want to go first! I’ve been wanting to blow you even _before_ we were boyfriends!” Roger groaned. “So that’s it, May, fucking lie down!”

And the fucking shitshow goes on for another fifteen minutes or so.

Roger thought that he already lost the fight when Brian successfully managed to pin him down again and starts attacking his neck. He’s already catching his breath and his body feels quite sore. But it seems that Brian couldn’t also ignore the fact that he was tired to continue, and rolls on his back to the bed. His hand curling around Roger’s.

Silence filled the two of them as they rest for a while. Then they look at each other, and burst into laughter.

“You’re such an idiot!”

“I can’t believe that we just stupidly wrestled each other just for a fucking blowjob!” Brian was shaking his head, face stretched into a huge smile.

Roger swallowed the lump of his dry throat before laughing again. “You even almost elbowed me on the face, you prick.”

“Really? I’m sorry, love,” Brian immediately turn to his side to check up on him. And Roger just fell in love a little more. He cuddles up to Brian and looks at him. Roger’s thinking of another approach. But then Brian props himself up and pulls the loose robe around him.

“Brian?”

Roger saw his boyfriend takes his black trousers from the cabinet, and fishes something inside the pocket. Brian showed him a sixpence.

“Since none of us would like to back down, we’ll do it the old fashion way,” Brian explained, a devilish grin on his face. “Heads or tail?”

 _Ah!_ Roger smirked at him. “Heads. Blessed by the goddess of luck herself.”

“Very well,” Brian shifts his head to the side. Then with the coin inside, he takes Roger’s hand and starts shaking it.

Roger felt the coin bounces inside the fleshy part of his palm. “This feels as if we’re jerking off.”

Brian laughs and rolls his eyes. “Let go in the count of three, alright? One… two… three..”

They both watches as the coin shoots up and flips in the air.

Roger could feel his blood rushing through his ears. _Please_ _be_ _heads!_   _Please_ _be_ _heads! Please_ _be_ _heads!_

The coin surprisingly landed in the space between them. Brian practically grabs on his hands, as if thinking that Roger would cheat. Almost knocking each other skulls as they checked who won, Brian lets out a loud, “Ha!”. Meanwhile, Roger’s heart dropped on the pit of his stomach.

“C-Can we do it again?” Roger tries to bargain.

Placing the coin on the night stand, Brian just mutely shake his head. Paired with a smug look, there goes that hungry eyes again. They only went a little bit gentle when he sinks back to the bed, and slowly pushes Roger down while kissing him passionately.

Once they pulled apart again, Roger’s head is already spinning. Brian on the other hand, still have have that sly smirk in his face. But his eyes—there’s really that certain darkness that Roger couldn’t put his finger into.

“Roger…?” Brian calls him softly, planting kisses on his collarbone.

“Mm… Yes?” bucking into his boyfriend’s magical hands, Roger half-moaned and half-sighed.

“ _Je_ _t’aime_ _beaucoup_ …”

If only Brian knew how Roger’s heart would stutter, whenever he speaks to him in French, especially on moments like these.

“ _Je_ _t’aime_ _plus_ , Brian…”

Then he felt that Brian’s pretty kisses have reached his hip bone. Roger had some little courage to prop himself up and watch Brian for his next move, which is pretty obvious from that point forward.

At the same time, Brian looks at him under heavy lids and smiles cheekily: “ _Bon_ _appétit_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **☆*:.｡. HAPPY 2019!!! .｡.:*☆  
> **  
>  I wish you’re all well and havin’ a blast, darlings!! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ 
> 
>  
> 
> Apologies if I wasn’t able to post the promised update last week. This dumb bitch got sick the first week of the freaking New Year (seriously, whose smart idea it was to dance tipsily in a silk slip dress during NYE party, and jumps on the pool afterwards in a friggin cold weather? Anyone???) ◉‿◉ 
> 
> I sincerly appreciate all the comments and kudos —speaking of Kudos, excuse me? did it really fucking jumped from 280 something to 360? REALLY, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I WAS SHOOKT!! MY FUCKING WIG FLEW!
> 
> ♡o(╥﹏╥)o ♡ Please take my uwu! I will definitely celebrate again tonight... and probably jump in the pool again—
> 
> Have a great day! xoxo
> 
> ====
> 
> “I didnt know it was fancy dress, Fred. You look like an angry lizard”
> 
> “Got to make an impression, darling”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations on Chapter Notes below

        **T** he next day, around five in the afternoon, all of the invited guests are already settled inside the Imperial College’s famous _FiveSixEight_ bar.

Brian feels a bit frazzled, but he’s beyond delighted seeing familiar faces again. He still couldn’t believe how his parents managed to afford the venue. The only thing that his mother told him is that Professor Lovell helped them to sort out the arrangement of the place, so that they won’t be forced to cram themselves inside the May’s tiny abode. Mrs. May also assured Brian that they’ve been _secretly_ planning to do a double celebration for his birthday and graduation. They were able to save up some money for an ample amount of time.

“I would like to raise another toast for our beloved birthday boy, Mr. Brian May,” Freddie effortlessly pulled off the androgynous look with his white V-cut shirt, multicolored (ladies) tweed blazer, white satin skinny pants, kohl eye-liner, and black nail polish on his left hand.

“Happy birthday, Brian!” the guests raised their glasses in unison.

“Can we hear a little speech?” Tim, one of his friends and bandmate, asked from the other side of the table. Sitting beside him was Christine, Brian’s ex-girlfriend. Mary told him that the two started dating a month ago.

“Um…” Brian looks around, though quite shy, stood up. flashing a shaky smile. Clearing his throat, he took a quick glance of Roger, who’s sitting across him. His boyfriend smiles at him, and that made him feel a little better. Brian starts his speech by thanking everyone who attended, especially his parents, and his Professor.

After the party, the Taylor’s and the Bulsara’s —along with Mary and Mr. Edmund, of course— were invited to the May’s humble flat for some tea, and to have a more quieter conversation amongst the parents. They’re nothing but immediately very friendly with each other. And of course, as _expected_ , Mrs. Taylor couldn’t stop singing Brian’s praises, making his parents really proud.

“Ooh! What a cute house!” squeezing his hand, Clare was being generous when she said that with a sweet smile.

The May’s two-story house with its 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, living room, a kitchen and dining area, a garage, and a small backyard garden is considerably _decent_ for a lower-middle class family; but in comparison, it’s only tad bigger than the Taylor’s Greenhouse.

Febreze’s cotton fresh and the scent of his Mum’s homemade vanilla biscuits still lingers in the air as they all walk inside the flat.  
  
Squeaky, the family cat, greets them and immediately purred against one of living room’s chairs. Kashmira, Freddie’s younger sister, scoops and cradles the cat and starts petting his silky, jet black fur. “Fred, look how much he’s grown!”  
It was Freddie who gifted — _forced_ — Brian the little Squeaky when he was still a kitten. The Bulsara’s already have _seven_ adopted cats at home, and Mr. and Mrs. Bulsara could no longer add another one to their pack of felines.

The remaining invited guests gathered themselves in the living room as Brian’s parents starts preparing the tea and biscuits. Freddie’s father, Mr. Bomi Bulsara, brought the whole album from the cruise trip where he and Freddie met the late Mr. Taylor and young Roger. He's been telling Mrs. Taylor how he couldn’t wait to show it to them.

Brian quickly excused himself, and brings his gift bags to his old bedroom, on the second floor. He removed his shoes, flopping on his single-size bed just to lie down, and to have a quiet alone time for a moment. After rubbing his eyes, he remembered that Freddie painted his right fingernails with white polish. He made a mental note to remove it later.

His bedroom looks exactly the same as he left it when he moved to his own apartment: the egg-shell colored wallpaper, two posters of Jimmy Page, a poster of The Beatles, map of the world, Smile (their band’s name) memorabilia, Imperial College’s pennant flag pinned to the wall, and favorite photos on his photo board. Instead of seeing the usual sky blue ceiling, his eyes found his glow-in-the-dark stickers of the solar system and stars. The spot where he used to place his Red Special was now replaced by a hoover.

Now that he thinks about it, his whole bedroom is the size of his _bathroom_ in the Taylor mansion.

When Brian closes his eyes, he heard the sound of laughter downstairs. Moments later, he heard someone knocks on his door.

Half expecting it’s Roger, Freddie waltzes in instead. “Hey, darling. You alright?”

“Yeah… I’m good,” sighing, Brian sits-up. “Gonna change for a bit. Mind closing the door, Fred?”

He then takes a few steps towards his wooden cabinet, and fishing out his ‘The Who’ t-shirt. He could feel Freddie’s eyes on him as he removes his black velvet blazer. “So I heard you’re checked in at the Hilton’s?”

“Yeah. Also, Mrs. Taylor’s been staying there for a week for business,” unbuttoning his white inner shirt, Brian turned to his friend. “Have you submitted your business proposal to the Waldorf’s?”

“Still finalizing the last touches. Anyway, I think Mary and I—,” Freddie stops abruptly. A string of emotions played on his face. Then with a mysterious smirk he asks,“—So are you _finally_ going to tell me now who’s fucking you while you’re away, Brian?”

Brian followed where Freddie’s brown gaze is currently fixated. _Oh fuck!_

The marks that Roger left from last night were all over his stomach, and there’s a huge one on his left hip bone.

“Hmmnn…?” left eyebrow saucily raised, Freddie crosses his arms across his chest, waiting.

Heart starts to beat faster, self-consciousness biting him, Brian immediately puts his shirt on. “J-Just a one-time thing, Fred. Nothing special.”

“Mmm-hmmm…” Freddie hums, although it’s clear as day that he doesn’t believe Brian for a second. “A one-night stand for some good birthday shag? Cornwall really had changed you, my friend.”

The awkward silence stretches for a painful bit. Brian just want nothing more but to crawl under his circular bedroom rug, and just hide there until Freddie leaves. But he didn’t. He stayed.

“I really like your locket. It’s the Red, right?” Freddie spoke again while Brian picks up his discarded clothes. “It’s really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Brian shows him a tight smile. “It’s a gift from Roger.”

“Ah! Is that so?” said Freddie. At that moment, Brian practically begged the heavens that his friend will not put two and two together. Or else, both him and Roger will be _greatly_ fucked.“It’s really beautiful, darling. Although, hope you still like my gift after receiving _that_ one.”

Brian frowned. “Of course! I love the monogrammed scarf that you and Mary gave me. It’s beautiful.”

Just then, someone knocks on the door. “Brian?”

_Speak of the devil…_

“Come on in, Roger,” Freddie opens the door with a mysterious smile.

“Sorry if I interrupted you,” Roger’s eyes curiously danced between Freddie and him. “Your mother’s calling you.”

Freddie placed his arm around Roger’s shoulder and gestures him out the door. “It’s fine, dear. I just finished watching Brian strip for me. Too bad you missed the show.”

“Fred!”

Roger lets out a somewhat breathy laugh. “Too bad. Damn.”

To shake the awkwardness, Brian grabbed the two of them, and heads downstairs.

  
          The living room sofas were packed with the parents and Mr. Edmund. Softly playing the piano, Freddie sits side-by-side with Clare, who is watching him play. Roger is now chatting with Mary and Kashmira.

After serving the adults the second round of tea, Brian sat down on the couch between his Dad and Mr. Bulsara. He takes the album from the table and starts looking at the photos. Excitement and warmth fills his chest as he saw a glimpse of a younger Roger with his late father. If Brian remembers it correctly, the photos were taken five years ago; making Roger fifteen that time and Freddie nineteen. Both had short school-boy hairstyle.

“They were both a handful,” Mr. Bulsara narrated. “The two of them kept on sneaking out at night, and getting into trouble.”

“Oh Papa! We were nothing but behaved little boys,” Freddie denied over his shoulder as he continuously plays the piano.

The moms giggled and exchanges looks. Mr. May shifted on his seat and asks, “By the way, Win, what is Roger taking?”

Mrs. Taylor placed her cup down and clears her throat, “Roger’s not enrolled in any College.”

“Is he being trained for the business instead…?” Mr. Bulsara inquired.

Suddenly, the smoke from his Dad’s cigarette and Mr. Bulsara’s tobacco becomes too much for Brian’s nasal passages. He should’ve expected that _this_ topic will be brought up.

“No. He’s currently healing,” Mrs. Taylor carefully explained. “The death of Michael upsets him greatly. I know that his education is really important. But what matters right now is my son, and that is my top priority.”

Brian sends his boyfriend a side-way glance. Head slightly bowed, Roger now have Squeaky on his lap, absently stroking his fur. Mary and Kashmira are both curiously looking at them in silence. Meanwhile, Freddie’s teaching Clare some tricks to play Chopin.

“Of course,” Mr. Bulsara agreed.

Although, Brian knew that Mr. Bulsara is holding back his tongue to insist about the whole ‘importance of education’ speech. That goes the _same_ way for Mr. May. Both men have strong opinions about the children’s education, and how it’s so important for their future. Though, both of them knew that whether Roger goes to College or not, he’ll still live comfortably. Roger Taylor will _still_ be richer than the May’s and Bulsara’s combined.

To cut the awkward tension that is slowly seeping, Brian asks, “So which countries have you been in this cruise trip, Bomi?”

“Well there were 30 of them, and four continents.”

“30!?” the other listeners repeated.

He then goes on and starts naming them, and the fun activities they’ve done, leaving them all fascinated. The street parties in Barcelona, historical sites of Portugal, the beaches of the Caribbean and Bora-bora. The tranquility of the beautiful Hawaii. How it was a magical sight to see fireworks surrounding the statue of Liberty, and enjoying the lazy afternoon heat at the Santa Monica pier.

“How come you and Clare didn’t join the trip?” Mrs. May, who is sitting next to Mrs. Taylor on the other couch, asked.

“It’s a father and son vacation, Ruth,” Mrs. Taylor answered. “And besides, it was my husband’s idea to take Roger only. He was worried that Clare was then too young to travel in the sea for so long.”

“And the expenses,” Mrs. Bulsara added. “It took us a year and a half to complete the payment.”

“That too,” gingerly picking up a piece of Jer’s delicious homemade cheese biscuits from the platter, Mrs.Taylor nodded. “The price per passenger costs like...an average functioning car, I believe?”

“ _That_ expensive?” eyes-wide, Mrs. May gasped.

“But it’s all worth it. My boys enjoyed it so much.”

“I agree,” said Mrs. Taylor. “My husband and my son almost did not run out of stories from that trip for a month when they came back.”

Brian was already half-listening to what they were talking about, his attention back on the photos.

There were lot of shots of Roger and Freddie together. He would be lying if he will not admit to himself that he feels a little jealous inside. How he wished he’s also  _included_ in these photos. It looks like the awesome two-some really had some good time back then, just from their wide smiles. There’s a photo of Roger and Freddie inside the ship’s bridge, both wearing Captain caps and aviator sunglasses. A photo of Roger and Freddie in their swimming trunks on the cruise ship’s sunny pool deck. Freddie and Roger both dressed up in sharp suits. Then there’s Freddie and Roger dancing with some young girls.

“Freddie chickened out when his date asked him to kiss her that night,” the tip of Brian’s nose grazed Roger’s right cheek when he suddenly looks up. Brian didn’t even feel Roger’s presence behind him.

“I like to play hard-to-get sometimes, darling,” Freddie singsonged. Mary and Kashmira rolled their eyes, smiling all-knowingly.

Roger pointed a photo of Mr. Bulsara and Mr. Taylor. “Oh! I remember this! This is when you and Dad won the table tennis match. Right, Bomi?”

“Yes,” Mr. Bulsara answered. Then he crossed his arms, “Same night when you and Farookh break inside the nurses’ room and stole their knickers.”

“Ugh! _Gross!_ ” Clare sends his brother and Freddie sharp glare.

“We were just being cheeky,” Roger lamely reasoned, a guilty smile on his face . “Dad got so mad at me, I thought he’ll throw me out the bloody ocean.”

“Your father and I agreed that it would be a complete waste to throw you and Farookh that night. We both agreed that the sea wouldn’t want to have two brats as offerings.”

It was a lame joke but Brian finds himself, and the others, laughing.

“The fishes will surely refuse to eat them!” Clare added, eyes animatedly wide. She then leaves Freddie and made a beeline towards him. “May I also see your photos, Brian?”

“Oh! Please,” Mrs. Taylor turned to Brian’s mother. “I’ve already seen some on the foyer.”

Freddie stood up and self-volunteered to help Mrs. May to get Brian’s photo albums. “You’ve got his photos from our glamorous photo shoot from last year, yeah, Ruth?”

“Of course, I do, dear.”

Brian gasped, “No, Fred!”

“Oh! That _iconic_ photo shoot,” smiling, Mr. May shakes his head. “I think Brian hid it somewhere. Behind those books. Yes! That one, Freddie.”

“Dad!” Brian whined, surprised that his father is joining them to tease him. He was about to stand up from the couch to snatch the album from Freddie’s hands when Roger grabs on his arms. “Let go, Roger!”

“Nope!”

“What are you embarrassed about, darling?” grinning, Freddie hands the album to Clare. “You looked fabulous in these photos.”

Of course Freddie will say that. _He_ was the one who styled and dressed Brian on that photo shoot, as one of their male models for the stall’s ad. Brian was only forced to do it. Sometimes, he wonders, if Freddie really knows how to take good advantage of his kindness.

Mary then showed the guests a copy of a local magazine where Brian’s first modeling gig debuted.

“Sweetheart, these ensembles looked magnificent,” Mrs. Taylor commented.

“It was a collaborative effort between Freddie and I,” Mary beams at her. “Though I was more focus on the makeup.”

“I am in love with the makeup,” Mrs. Taylor approved, brows raised. “I didn’t have any idea that Brian looked this good with glittery, smokey eyeshadow.”

More photo albums of Brian being passed around like the platters of biscuits. His boyfriend had left his side and joined the little commotion. Roger’s eyes are twinkling, as he looks at Brian’s baby photos over Mrs. Taylor’s shoulder. Mrs. Taylor is now talking to Mary about her work at Biba as a Manager while running the fashion stall that she, Brian, and Freddie owns. Meanwhile, Kashmira telling Clare stories about Smile’s performance as they look at the other photo album.

“Ew! Brian, never straighten your hair like this again!” grimacing, Clare ordered as she raised a photo of a College freshman Brian.

“I told him that and he didn’t listened,” Brian’s mother agreed. “By the way, Win, I must say that I adore my son’s new haircut. Finally _someone_ was able to cut it short and nicely.”

“The Trumper’s have amazing hairstylists,” Mr. Edmund told his mother with a smile. Brian caught a glance of Freddie blinking twice upon hearing the high-end salon’s name.

“We’re also happy to see that Brian gained some weight,” Mr. May added. “Especially on the cheeks.”

“The Madame takes care of Brian as if he’s her own son,” Mr. Edmund answered again. Mr. May sends Mrs. Taylor a grateful smile.

“You’re very lucky,” nodding as he said it on a low voice, Mr. Bulsara gently pats on Brian’s thigh.

“Why does Brian looks like Mrs. Pamelark with straight hair, Mum?” Roger sniggers.

“Oh goodness! He does!” Mrs. Taylor laughs. It’s more annoying to Brian as he doesn’t know who this Mrs. Pamerlak lady is.

“You know who he also looks like?” Freddie chimes in. “That grumpy old librarian from my College.”

Brian jokingly threw his friend a sharp look. Even though it seems that they’re good-naturedly ganging up on him right now, he couldn’t ask for a much better birthday celebration with his loved ones.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

          A week later, Brian found himself inside a Gucci store with Roger and Mr. Edmund. It’s an odd feeling that he’s starting to get accustomed with the all the luxuries, but he still couldn’t help himself to feel a little antsy and conscious with these type of stores.

The store’s multiple LED track lights accentuating not just the number of suits, ties, accessories, and shoes on display, also its masculine glamorous interior. The soft scent of jasmine mixed with sandalwood is so gentle on the air he breathes.

Sitting cross-legged on the store’s brown camelback couch, his eyes follows Roger, as his boyfriend picks another suit for his birthday.

“What do you think of this, Brian?” Roger showed him a floral printed velvet suit. “Too flashy? Or too boring?”

“Um…” Brian wants to say that it reminds him of his Grandmother’s table cloth cover. Good thing, the shop assistant came into his rescue and starts suggesting.

Out of boredom, Brian takes a latest copy of Vogue magazine from the glass coffee table in front of him. The complimentary glasses of wine already forgotten. He starts flipping the pages mindlessly; only to stop on a double page spread of the beautiful Debbie as the face of a luxury French perfume.  
  
And there you go… Brian’s self-consciousness and insecurities starts crawling up on him. _Again_.

Brian knew very well that he’s only killing his own self-confidence if he’ll continue comparing himself to Roger’s exes. But… sometimes… _sometimes_ … Brian just couldn’t fucking help it.

There were even those cold and gray moments when Roger’s already in his arms, in the middle of a heated intimate act, crying and moaning his name, and telling Brian how _much_ he loves him, yet there’s a small voice on the back of his mind that makes him feel so insecure and uncertain. And Brian hates it so much.

Sighing the feeling away, Brian turns to the next page. To his own surprise, his eyes found Clare this time. Clare, _his student_. Adorable dimpled cherub smile, long golden curls flying along with the hem of her lacy white dress, holding a huge sunflower, Clare looks like a real life fairy. Brian noticed on the corner of the page the name of Mrs. Taylor’s fashion company: _‘Taylored’_.

Perhaps, Brian still haven’t had a full-on grasp on how much wealth the Taylor family have. Or, he just don’t want to further imagine the humongous difference of his and Roger’s wealth status.

Yes, it’s given that it’s Brian’s first time to tutor a child who came from the upper class, and not just your typical English upper-middle class family from the neighborhood.

 _“You know you shouldn’t be acting all cocky, Brian,”_ Pandora’s voice suddenly ringing in his ears. The smug look on her face flashing back before his eyes. _“They couldn’t get a tutor in Cornwall because they’ve been blacklisted by multiple Tutoring agencies. Did it never crossed your mind why they even had to desperately hire you, all the way from Feltham? When they could easily get any smarter and expert tutor from nearby cities with all the money they have. Or, were you so blinded with how much they offered to pay you to not ponder on that thought?”_

Pandora’s words were sharp as spear, and Brian was so close from snapping.

 _“You know you should’ve done some research before accepting the job,”_ Pandora continued, voice laced with condescendence. _“To your eyes, the Taylor’s might look like they’re all bathing with anything that glitters. But to us that knows their dark and disgusting secrets, they’re nothing but sewer rats who lives in a castle.”_

“Excuse me, sir,” cutting Brian from the dark memory, the shop assistant is now standing in front of him. His arms extended to Brian, handing him the two-piece gray pinstripe suit that Roger must’ve decided to pick.

“Oh! Thank you,” Brian smiled at the attendant. He then carefully laid it on the space next to him.

Putting the magazine back to its place, Brian eyes starts to wander around again. Ten minutes ago, after Roger and Mr. Edmund left him on the waiting area, he curiously checked some of the suits.  
Brian’s already expecting that the suits are much expensive than the normal ones, but it did not stop his stomach from doing a little somersault after seeing the price; it’s worth a couple of monthly rent payment!

“Brian?” he heard Mr. Edmund called him.

“Yes, sir?”

“How come you haven’t tried your suit yet?” snapping his leather planner close, Mr. Edmund asked. “There are multiple of vacant fitting rooms over there.”

Looking at Mrs. Taylor’s assistant quizzically, Brian asks, “What do you mean, sir?”

“ _That_ suit next to you,” Mr. Edmund eyed the suit on the couch. “Try it on now, so we can make sure that it fits you.”

_The suit is for him?!_

Shocked, Brian blinks multiple times, “I’m sorry, sir. I thought it was Roger’s.”

“What?” Roger called from somewhere farther inside the store.

“That’s for you, young man,” suppressing himself from clicking his tongue, Mr. Edmund gestured Brian to stand up, and the shop assistant takes the suit from the couch. “Now go ahead, and try it on. We have to get back to the house as early as possible.”

Almost robotic, Brian followed what he was ordered. The shop assistant guides him where the fitting rooms are.

“Just call me if you need any assistance,” the shop assistant told Brian with a smile after he hanged the suit from the metal hook.

Brian just nodded wordlessly as he steps inside the fitting room in disbelief. He’s sure that this is Mrs. Taylor’s doing. The attendant smiled again at Brian, as he closes the sand colored curtain rail on him.

Brian then heard Roger singing to himself from one of the other fitting rooms. Remembering that they’re on a schedule, he starts taking off his long-sleeve white button-down, and black slim work pants. The suit fits perfectly on him. Almost as if it was tailored for him. Or was it…?

“Brian, you in there?” Roger called from the other side of the curtain.

“Y-Yeah…”

“I’m gonna come in.”

Mouth slightly agape, Roger fixes his eyes on their reflection in the full length mirror. With their dashing suits on, they looked so exceptionally good together. So bloody good, it’s almost like a sin.

“Roger, you’re so beautiful,” eyes marveling, Brian was almost breathless. These are one of those moments when he still couldn’t believe that Roger’s his. His boyfriend’s beauty is almost out-of-this-world with his unique floral printed suit that has butterflies and dragons.

A loopy shy smile formed on Roger’s face, “I wanted to say the same thing to you.”

Turning around to face his lover, Brian slides his hand on the back of Roger’s head for a kiss. At this point, they’ve already kissed more than a hundred times, but the burning sensation effect on Brian is still the same.

He wants to kiss away all his insecurities. He wants to kiss away all his worries. He wants to kiss away those little voices in his head that tells him he will never be a permanent part of Roger’s life.

_Roger is here. Roger is his. Roger is… pulling away?_

“Brian…” letting out a sharp inhale, Roger whispers as he clings to him for support. “T-They might see us.”

The kiss just now is not enough. Brian wants more. His body is hungry for more. And he knows Roger feels the same way, knowing that his boyfriend is already sporting a semi.

“We’ll continue this later,” Brian kissed the tip of his lover’s nose, holding back himself for his lips not to touch the real aim. Roger sighed as he nods.

Turned out that it was almost a close call when Mr. Edmund, followed by the assistant, came back, “What do you think, Bri—?”

Roger was quick enough to act as if he’s helping Brian with the suit. The blond heir turns to his mother’s assistant and asks, “What do you think?”

“Come closer, boys. So I can see you both well,” Mr. Edmund gestured the both of them to step out the fitting room. He then points out the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the wall, “Stand there, please.”

Inspecting how the clothes fits on them, Mr. Edmund carefully studies them with an expert eye. After a couple of minutes he hums in approval and smiled at the attendant. “They looked amazing as the Madame requested. Thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the attendant smiles back. Another attendant steps in and offered them help to take off the suits while Mr. Edmund settles the payment.

It was almost four in the afternoon when they arrived at the mansion.

“Mr. Edmund, may I speak to the Madame if she’s not busy?” Brian asked as the three of them climbs the stairs.

“Sure, Brian. Is it urgent?”

“I just want to thank her for the gift.”

“I understand,” Mr. Edmund nods. Meanwhile, Roger stretches lazily and announce, “I’ll be taking a nap.”

They exchanged a quick look before Roger marches to the third floor. Mr. Edmund asked Brian to wait outside Mrs. Taylor’s office for a couple of seconds. “Come on in, young man.”

A lit cigarette between her manicured fingers, Mrs. Taylor sweetly beams at Brian as he walks in, while Mr. Edmund exits. “Edmund said you want to talk to me, darling?”

“Yes, Madame. I want to thank you for the suit,” said Brian. “You’ve showered me enough gifts.”

“Oh, dearest! That is fine,” Mrs. Taylor waves her hand. “I was actually planning on giving you a _car_ as a birthday gift.”

Brian's jaw dropped then tittered nervously, remembering what Roger said one night. “The birthday dinner and the watch that you gifted me was enough, Madame. I couldn’t really ask for more. You’re very generous, and the kindest employer I’ve ever had. Although, I don’t want you spending lavishly on me.”

“ _Why?_ ” raising her shoulders as she asked, Mrs. Taylor takes a puff.

Brian looks at her, confused. “Because… I think… and I feel… that it doesn’t feel right.”

Mrs. Taylor purses her lips, rolling her eyes. Gently stubbing her cigarette on the ashtray, she makes her way towards him. “Brian, dear, you shouldn’t worry about how I am spending my money on you. It’s all worth it. Also, I like showering my loved ones with gifts, so it’s natural that  _you're_  receiving them.”

“But, Madame… I feel that this is too much.”

She motherly cups Brian’s face. “Brian, think of yourself as part of the _family_ now. You are important to me, and to my children.”

_‘Would she still say that once she found out that he and her son is in a clandestine relationship?’_

“The thing you should be worrying about right now is to make sure that Clare will pass her month-end exams— as always,” said Mrs. Taylor, her eyes locked with his. “I am counting on you.”

“Yes… yes, Madame,” Brian surrendered to the fact that the conversation about her gift-giving ends there.

“That’s my boy,” Mrs. Taylor kissed his cheek. “Your parents are wonderful. And they’re very lucky to have you.”

“Roger and Clare are also very lucky to have you as their mother,” Brian realized that he haven’t told her that yet. “You’re the Queen of this huge empire, yet you always try your best to be around them, and shower them with love and affection. You try your best to fill in the role of being a mother and father.”

Mrs. Taylor’s lips parted. Then she looks away, dropping her hands on her sides. As if she’s saying it to herself, quietly, “Still I don’t think that my ‘best’ is enough for my children to love me the way that they loved me before.”

“But there was a big difference now than before, right, Madame?”

Shutting her eyes as she sighs, Mrs. Taylor nods. “Y-Yes. And perhaps I’m just being impatient.”

Letting out another sigh, the mansion’s mistress goes back to her desk, and takes a her cup of tea. She thoughtfully takes a sip before saying, “Your parents told me that you’re planning to continue your PhD once your tutoring contract’s done. Is that still your plan in mind, young man?”

Surprised that she knows about it already, Brian just nods in response. That was his original plan. The salary that he’ll get will be used to support his studies and thesis.

“Oh, dear…” Mrs. Taylor placed her cup down and sends him a sad look. “You’re going to _break_ Roger’s heart.”

Brian’s mouth went dry as his heart skips a beat. _What…what does she mean by that exactly?_

“I’m sorry?”

Mrs. Taylor took her seat, and places her chin on the top of her laced fingers. “You’re his closest _friend_ , Brian. Once you and Clare are back in London, he’ll be left here all alone again.”

Mentally sighing in relief, Brian tries to calm himself down. They’ve been nothing but careful so far. He should not be thinking that the mistress is already having suspicions about what’s going on between them. “Well, Madame, your son asked me some stuff about the Colleges around London. I think… I think he’s already thinking about going to College.”

A pleased smile danced on the Madame’s lips. “That’s some good news. Did he mentioned what course he’s interested on getting?”

“No. Not as of yet, Madame.”

“Well…” Mrs. Taylor unlaced her hands, taking a folder on the table. “What you just told me sounds as if Roger is already taking his first baby steps on getting his life back-on-track. And that is going to be a good start.”

“I agree, Madame,” said Brian. “And I’ll always be glad to help him, and answer his questions about Colleges, and possible course he might be interested with.”

“Thank you, love. I’ll be looking forward to—” Mrs. Taylor was interrupted when someone knocks on the door.

“Madame, apologies for the interruption,” Mr. Edmund is back. “Mr. Finkle’s on the phone. He said it’s urgent.”

“Oh… alright,” Mrs. Taylor stood up from the chair, and follows her assistant. “I’ll talk to you later, Brian.”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

         “Writing on your journal again, Mr. May?” quietly locking Brian’s bedroom that late evening, Roger’s freshly showered smell made Brian look up from his record book.

“I’m writing you a love letter, actually,” Brian beams at him. He watches as Roger excitedly ran to his bed, and pounces on him like a puppy. “Oof! Rog, you’re sitting on my stomach!”

Roger stayed on his position and snatches the record book from his hands. The smile on his boyfriend’s face immediately dropped as he reads the content of it. “Love letter, my ass! This is your daily observation on Clare’s learning progress!”

Flashing him a teasing grin, Brian takes the book from him, and place his pen on it. After that, he placed it on his side-drawer table. Rolling his eyes, Roger blankets Brian’s body with his own. Kissing the top of his gold head, Brian starts caressing his boyfriend’s hair. “Are you excited for your birthday celebration next week?”

Letting out a contented sigh, Roger cuddles up to him. “Have you prepared your gift for me?”

“Hmmm… I can’t say…”

Roger raised his head to look at him in the eyes. “Oh! Don’t you _dare_.”

Chuckling, Brian pats his head back down to his chest. “Of course, your highness. It’s going to be a surprise.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Have you already send the invitations?” curiously, Brian asked.

“All done,” Roger answered, finger softly tracing shapes on his chest. “Just some old close friends, some close relatives… and my ex-fiancés.”

“I’m fine with that,” Brian shrugged. Roger looks up on him with a wondering look. “You’re _not_ jealous?”

Shaking his head, Brian pushed away some stray fringe off Roger’s left eye. “They’re both quite lovely in person.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “But… I _want_ you to be jealous.”

“What?” Brian blinks in disbelief. “What are you saying, Roger?”

“Because… when I met your ex at your party… I got so madly jealous,” Roger confessed. “For one, Christine’s a beautiful brunette. Two, she exudes class and grace. And then I think to myself: _‘Ah! No wonder this girl won Brian’s heart’_. She also spoke eloquently. And is very charming.”

Pausing, Roger lowers his eyes. “And when I mentally _compared_ myself to her, I’m nothing but just a rich bum. If you take away my parents’ wealth and the Taylor name from me…I’m _worthless_ …”

“Of course not!” Brian disagreed firmly, voice immediately raised. “You are not worthless, Roger— never say that again! Just because you haven’t earn your degree means it’s the end of the world. Also, it’s not your fault that you were born into this privilege life.”

_Just what on earth Roger is saying?_

“You’ve been into this dark and delicate situation, because you lost your beloved father. I couldn’t even imagine your pain back then. But Roger, you are not worthless. You understand?”

Taken aback with his reaction, Roger just slowly nods his head wordlessly.

Sighing loudly, Brian thought that he quite overreacted. He also must’ve scared his boyfriend a little. In a normal yet cautious tone he says, “I’m… I’m sorry. It’s just that it ticked me off the wrong way. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Brian,” Roger assured him. “Sorry as well. I mean… that’s what I felt that moment…”

“I understand. I just don’t want to hear those words from you ever again.”

“I… okay…”

Brian heard hesitation in Roger’s voice, but he did not pry on it. The last thing that he wants to happen is an argument. They haven’t slept on the same bed for three consecutive nights. So he just resumes on caressing Roger’s hair, allowing his fingers to be softly tickled by it.

“Brian?” Roger broke the short silence.

“Hmnn…?”

“Let’s say that I wasn’t…me. I mean, just a _normal_ lad in your neighborhood. Would you… still date me?”

Brian softly chuckles. “Of course I would…”

“Really?” obviously touched, Roger perks up, and looks at him lovingly.

“Yeah… cause you’re really _good-looking_ ,” Brian teases him cheekily, wanting to lighten up the mood. “You’ll be my trophy boyfri—”

In return, Roger glared at him, pinching on his nipple hard. “Ow! Ow! That hurts, you wanker! I’m just _kidding!_ Ow!”

“So you would only date me because of my face?!” Roger sounded so whiny. Brian grabs on his hand before he could pinch him again, and plants an apologetic kiss on his palm. Softer kisses on Roger’s self-harm scars.

“Rog, I’m just kidding,” Brian could feel his face stretched into a wide grin. “Aside from your gorgeous face, you also have a nice personality as well. My parents loves you. They said that you’re really humble, warm, polite, and friendly, something that they did not expect the least from a rich boy like you.”

“They really said that?” Roger’s features softens and brightens. Brian nods as confirmation.

It is true. Mr. and Mrs. May were surprised about the behavior of the Taylor children. Both Roger and Clare doesn’t have any air of arrogance nor brattiness that Brian have had painfully witnessed before from other rich kids that he tutored. Or his own other younger relatives who grew up from _nouveau riche_ parents. To Brian’s own surprise, he just found out that Roger and Clare both know how to do basic house chores such us doing the dishes. How? They helped Brian to wash all the dishes that they used for the tea and biscuits. Mrs. Taylor proudly said that she —along with her husband— has been teaching their children basic house chores since they were _five_.

“How about you, pretty boy?” poking the tip of Roger’s cute nose, Brian asked. “Would you still date me if we met on a different time and location?”

“Bloody hell, yeah!” Roger quickly answered. “Not just you’re very smart, kind, you’re also dreamy-looking. And…”

Face heating up from blushing, Brian awaits for Roger’s next word. “And…?”

Roger raised a brow with a smirk. “And _this_ …”

Brian’s mouth went dry and goes silent. His smile slowly disappears as Roger starts palming him against his pyjama pants. Roger let out a silent laugh before kissing him on his forehead then to his lips.

“Yes… this is what I like _more_ …” Roger purrs as he now starts stroking Brian’s bulge.

Brian heard himself hiss when Roger knelt between his body and starts mouthing and kissing his growing clothed erection. His boyfriend then impatiently get rids of his pyjama pants in one-go and gasped, “Ah! No underwear! Someone’s already _expecting_ a shag happening tonight.”

“And you’re not?” groaning, Brian raised his brow back.

Up on his knees, Roger gathered the hem of his nightshirt, and shows Brian that he’s wearing his underwear with a sultry smile, continuously teasing him with the other hand. His boyfriend’s bulge is already obvious though. “Hope there’s someone here who can help me take them off.”

Brian was about to say a reply when Roger pushes his blond locks over his shoulder, bluntly licks on the tip of his shaft before dipping down to take half of his length. “Fuck!”

The first time that they’ve done it, Brian’s a little awkward as it’s a very new thing for him to see a boy sucking his cock. (Ironically, he didn’t feel the same the first time he blew Roger. It actually felt natural for Brian.) Also, he could feel that Roger’s a bit nervous, and half-intimidated by his size. But Roger completely blew Brian away —literally _and_ metaphorically— that left him dizzy with pleasure, yet begging for more. His boyfriend is a natural when giving a head. Roger said that he tried to be as imaginative and creative with his techniques as possible, because he wants to give him nothing but full pleasure. Knowing that fact made Brian loves Roger more.

Brian swore to himself that he will try his best to do the same thing to Roger. Tonight, there’s a _thing_ that he’d like to try and already prepared for. One thing’s for sure: Roger likes it rough. And Brian is more than happy to deliver that while keeping the precautions.

With Roger now making circular motions with his very wet and warm tongue around the top of his dick, Brian just let himself helplessly bucking into it. His hands unconsciously grabbing on a random pillow and the other is squeezing on Roger’s shoulder. “Roger…you’re so good…”

Cerulean eyes heavy with lust and desire, Roger watches his reaction as he lazily drags his tongue from his perineum to his meatus, then proceeds to deep throat him.

“Jesus! Love, oh!” Brian’s whole being buzzing with pleasure and moans, as it stretches for a long while. Feeling the hot pooling feeling in his stomach, he knew that he’s close, so he warned Roger about it. But Roger resumes on his task, boldly ignoring what Brian just said. As a result, he explodes inside Roger’s hot mouth minutes later. Head falling back on the pillows, Brian was left light-headed with pleasure. Even in haze, he have an impression though that Roger swallows his load. “Roger…”

“I managed to swallow everything!” crawling back to him, Roger proudly announced with a satisfied grin on his face. Brian smiles, cupping the back of his neck to reward him with a passionate kiss. As their tongues dances together, Brian felt that Roger starts to grind on him. His boyfriend’s poor neglected cock, now begging for Brian’s attention.

Breaking the kiss, Brian ordered, “Take off your nightshirt, and lie down.”

Roger quickly kissed him, before he hurriedly lifts his nightshirt. Brian bowed down to ghost kisses on his lover’s flat stomach, only to stop when he heard a grunt from Roger.

“Oh… _shit_ …”

Bursting into loud laughter after looking up, Brian realized that Roger was so in a hurry, that he had forgotten that his nightshirt have three fucking top _buttons_ , and the collar got stuck mid-way on his head.

“Brian! Stop fucking laughing, and help me here!” visibly struggling, Roger complained. “Ugh! What a way to ruin the mood!”

Shaking his head while still chuckling, Brian helps Roger out. “You are so silly and funny, Roger. Gosh! I love you so much—wait, Roger! Slow down, mate! You might rip it.”

“I’ll fucking rip this bitch off me if I need to!” Roger groans again. “I want you to touch me now!”

Once they’ve had completely removed the damn nightshirt, Brian takes off his pyjama top as well, and throws it somewhere on the carpeted floor. Roger’s scowl dropped when his eyes landed on Brian’s locket. Leaning in to gently kiss his beloved again, Brian slips his hand beneath Roger’s waistband, and takes a hold of his hard cock, already leaking with pre-cum.

“Lie down, love,” Brian heard himself ordering again. Obediently, Roger maneuvers himself on the bed, and arranges himself like a broken, delicate doll. Swallowing the excitement on his throat, Brian marveled by the sight before him. “Roger, you’re so beautiful…”

“Please touch me now, Brian,” Roger pleads in response. _“J'ai vraiment envie de toi…”_

After removing Roger’s underwear, Brian starts trailing kisses from his lover’s neck, down to the lower part of his body. He really smelled heavenly and addictive. Brian noticed that Roger has that certain expensive eau-de-toilette scent on his skin. Even after a series of “activities” that leaves them both perspiring profusely, Roger still smells fantastic.

“Brian…” Roger reaches out to swipe his thumb over one his hollow cheekbones. “Fuck! So good!”

Brian meets his eyes before coyly running his tongue on the sensitive underside vein of Roger’s cock. The move almost surprisingly chokes Roger that he lets out a long pleasured moan. “Brian… I love that! _Merde! Tu me rends fou!”_

Another endearing thing that Brian loves during intimate moments like these is when Roger would randomly say some random French words that Brian doesn't understand. Bobbing against Roger’s throbbing length, Brian felt that he starts to harden again. A couple of minutes later, Roger began to thrash beneath him, and Brian is aware that he’s close. “Brian… _je viens… je viens_ … Brian!”

When it’s all over, he allowed Roger some moment to come down from his high. Brian is still a newbie when it comes to swallowing the whole load, so he spits some on his hand and massages it on his own cock. It is quite gross, yet there’s something that is oddly sexy about smearing Roger’s baby batter and his own spit all over his stonker. He then moves up the bed again, chest on Roger’s face, he takes something from his bedside drawer.

Roger gently takes a hold of his half-hard erection, and lazily grins. “Ooh… someone is still _up_ for another round…”

Brian captured Roger’s hand, and placed the things on his still slightly shaking palm. The room was only illuminated with one night-lamp and moonlight through the drawn curtains, but even with Roger’s bad eyesight, Brian knows that he can clearly see the things that he handed him: a couple of condoms, and a small bottle of silicone-based Durex.

“Will you allow me to be inside you, my beloved majesty?” nuzzling his neck, Brian asked Roger for consent.

It’s their first time doing anal. He needs Roger to be completely comfortable, and verbally agreeing to it. Although Roger said that a courtesan had already pegged him with a dildo before, (Brian caught himself shocked and curious at the same time upon hearing this) he said that it was a very daring and unbelievably hot experience that he wants to feel again (with Brian this time, of course).

So Brian did his research about the preparations (thank goodness he didn’t throw away the _Kama Sutra_ book that he and Freddie stolen from Tim —that Tim knicked from his older brother— as a prank years ago. The book was safely hidden in the deepest place in the May’s garage until recently) and studied as if he’s preparing for finals.

Also, little did Brian know that listening to Tim’s gay older brother’s stories about sexual intercourse between two males, would something that will be _useful_ to him a year later. Tim’s older brother is a funny, loud, and no-filter gay chap. Perhaps because he’s been a closeted gay for so long, that only last year, July 1967, Decriminalization of Homosexuality bill passed, he was finally free from his cage. Tim’s brother would go full-on details when they’re all tipsy in private; Brian’s face all scrunched up as he tried to imagine it, Freddie laughing his ass off, and poor Tim cringing at him, but still continue to listen.

“Oh… Brian…” Roger moaned as he kisses the sensitive patch of his neck and fondles him at the same time. “Brian…”

“Hmmnn…?” Brian waits for boyfriend’s answer. He stopped kissing him so he can look up to face Roger. “What, Roger?”

“Please…” heavy lidded eyes zeroed on Brian’s lips, Roger running his index finger against his cheek. “Make love to me, _mon amour_.”

A pleased smile curled up on Brian’s face, Roger beams back. After kissing his damp forehead, Brian takes the glass of water from the nightstand, taking a sip as his throat feels so dry. Roger drinks some small amount as well. “Now, I’ll try to be as gentle, and slow as possible. I’m going to prep you up first. If I start hurting you, let me know so I can stop.”

“But _what if_ I like to be roughly impaled by your one-eyed monster snake?” Roger mischievously smirked while Brian uncaps the lube after putting on the condom. Brian just rolled his eyes jokingly. Before he could pour the content on his hand, Roger quickly sits-up and volunteered to slather a generous amount on Brian’s dick while sporting a naughty smile, and twinkle in his eyes. “So you’ll finally be inside me then, you naughty big boy.”

“I think that’s enough, love,” Brian’s heart starts to pound.

_Relax…Take it slow…Don’t overthink… Make sure that you’ll both enjoy this..._

Letting out a short flirty laugh, Roger crawls back on his previous spot, wiggling his ass teasingly for Brian to see. Brian gave him an audible playful smack that made Roger gasp. “Oh! _Merde!_ Do it again!”

Shaking his head, Brian wordlessly guides Roger on his desired position: on his back. Then Brian placed a pillow under Roger’s hips. “So missionary, huh?”

“You fine with that?”

Eyes dangerously heavy with lust, Roger smoothens his hands over Brian’s chest as he explicitly starts frotting him, “I’ll try every possible position with you, _mon amour_. But I don’t mind starting with the basics.”

After that, words were replaced with kisses, caresses, moans, and occasional swearing. As he promised, Brian prepped Roger with lots of foreplay, and took his time to discover his lover’s sweet spot using his fingers that he also covered with condom and lube. Brian doesn’t have to ask if Roger is fine or enjoying it; judging from his loud moans, flushed skin, and erect member, he knows and see that he’s doing well so far.

“Please… B-Brian… I’m very ready,” Roger’s eyes starts to well up. “F-Fuck me now, Brian! Fuck me!”

It was a good thing that Brian’s bedroom was built soundproof (Roger told him so, as it used to be _his_ original bedroom), or else Roger must’ve woken up the whole mansion up by now. Cutting both of their growing agonies, Brian slowly feeds himself inside Roger’s tight heat.

Throwing his head back as he gasps, Brian almost submits to the foreign tightness around him. It’s surprisingly warmer and tighter _than_ a vagina. He quickly checks on Roger, “A-Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“B-Brian, you’re so big and long…” it wasn’t exactly the answer that Brian’s looking for. “Are you… completely in?”  
  
“Almost…”

“Fuck!” biting his lower lip, Roger breathes heavily through his nose. “You, and your monster dick!”

“Are you _okay_ though?” ignoring his remark, Brian starts to make some small, gentle thrusts. “Are you not hurt?”

“Y-Yes! Yes! I’m fine! So— _oh!_ ” Roger spreads his legs wider and raise them up in the air. Brian did more experimental movements as he gets more access inside his lover. “Brian, please more! More _je_ _t'en supplie!_ ”

The whole preparation process paid-off greatly as they’re both thrown into a wonderful bliss afterwards. Brian manages to be completely inside Roger without hurting him. The whole act of lovemaking with each other really touches Brian deep inside. This is not just about the sex.

“Brian…” Roger pants. “I’m close…”

“L-Look at me. I wanna see you,” Brian murmurs against Roger’s glistening red lips. He thrusts faster, and harder that it made Roger let out a dirty wail sort-of-sound. Brian trying to jerks off Roger at the same time, but it was a bit tricky. So Roger had to do it.

“Brian… kiss me…” Roger’s cheeks were completely flushed, sweating all over, and his hair fanned out against the pillow.

“So beautiful,” Brian whispers, leaning in for the requested kiss. “My beautiful angel. I love you.”

“I love you more…”

Roger finishes first; coming hotly all over his hand, his and Brian’s chest. Brian follows a couple of seconds later, almost loosing consciousness with one of the most intense orgasms he had for the first time in a while. Face down on the sheets, by the crook of Roger’s neck, his long arms splayed. The sound of his and Roger’s labored breaths echoes loudly in the darkness. No one dared to speak for a while, both very spent.

After getting back some of his energy, Brian gently eased himself off Roger and rolls on his back, though still exhausted. Roger slowly sits-up and drink some of the water again. He mutely offered some to him, but there’s almost barely on the glass that Brian just shook his head.

“That was amazing, Brian,” back on the bed, Roger cuddles up to him. Brian wraps his arm around him, a triumphant smile drawing on his face. “I know. And you’re amazing, Roger.”

“I can’t wait to do it _again_ tomorrow night,” such a very Roger thing to say.

“Tomorrow’s a Sunday, darling. I have class the day after, remember?”

“When can we do it again then?” Roger pouted adorably.

Brian shakes his head, chuckling. He kissed a hopeful looking Roger before sitting up, “Let’s have some quick warm shower now, shall we?”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

   

       As they were having lunch in the dining area, Thursday afternoon, the day before Roger’s birthday, Mr. Tony walked in and politely announces that the workers have arrived. Mr. Edmund told Brian beforehand that hired workers will arrive and install some paintings and photos on the walls of the whole mansion. So it means that Brian and Clare will have to temporarily move their classroom from the third floor library to the garden, as it’ll be noisy with all of the hammering and the drilling.

“Oh my God!” after lunch, Clare squealed in delight as she saw the maids carrying stacks of photo albums and places them on the living room’s couches. “Yes! _Finally!_ ”

Brian caught himself gawking at the newly installed large portrait of the Taylor family above the living room’s fireplace. Sitting side-by-side on a Victorian chaise lounge, holding hands, and both smiling wide were the elegantly dressed Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. Their equally impeccably dressed children, an almost tween Roger and younger Clare, were posed by the feet of their parents; both photographed as if they’re caught candidly, in the middle of laughter.

A warm feeling floods Brian’s chest. When he turned to his boyfriend, Roger’s sad eyes are also fixated on the same thing. Sensing that Brian’s looking at him, Roger straightened himself up and flashes him a small smile. He saw Mrs. Taylor walks up behind Roger, place her hands on his shoulders and starts quietly speaking to him purely in French.

“Brian, come here!” excitedly, Clare grabs on his hand. “Let’s look at the photos together!”

Even the Taylor’s photo albums are all personalized and monogrammed. Brian picks up an album with Roger’s name spelled in golden calligraphy, but Clare eagerly wanted to show him _her_ photos. Setting aside the album, Clare starts happily narrating the stories on each photos.  
The first few photos were Mrs. Taylor’s maternity shoot. Then there’s a shot of her, on Mr. Taylor’s lap, his hands proudly on her swollen belly. Then there’s a photo of a six-year-old Roger kissing Mrs. Taylor’s belly while looking up to his mother lovingly. Then photos of newborn Clare with her parents; Brian saw the same one that’s inside Roger’s locket. Skinny little Roger holding his little baby sister. Mr. Taylor feeding Clare on a high-chair. Clare’s first birthday party. Roger giving toddler Clare a piggy back ride. Taylor siblings playing in the garden. Multiple shots of Clare with her Dad at a party.

Brian couldn’t help but to smile. The Taylor children have had the best childhood it seems.

Then there’s Roger’s photo albums. A photo of newborn Roger inside Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. A tired looking yet smiling younger Mrs. Taylor on the bed, her baby son in her arms.

“I was only around your age that time, Brian,” Mrs. Taylor spoke out of nowhere. When Brian looked up to her, Mrs. Taylor’s eyes are looking at the photo.

“You got married around Roger’s age, Mum? You were nineteen?” Clare asked, adjusting her pearl beaded headband. “And Dad was like…twenty-two?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Taylor answered, taking a seat next to her daughter. “We had our official wedding at a registrar. It was just a simple and intimate ceremony. Then a year later, your Grandparents prepared a lavish party for us. That’s how I was able to wear a wedding dress even though I’m already married.”

“Pops and Nan did not attend the civil wedding, right?” it was Roger who asked. “Then who did you invited then?”

Mrs. Taylor hums as she recalls the memory. “Your Dad’s parents. Two of his friends. My best friends — your Aunt Crystal and Aunt Katherine… and that’s it.”

Roger and Clare exchanged a look.

 _Odd._ Brian senses that the Taylor siblings _doesn’t know_ a lot about the early history of their parents. Meanwhile, Brian knew his parent’s love story by heart: both of his parents served in the Royal Air Force, where they met. His Dad said that it was love at first sight. He was smitten with her breathtaking gentle smile and elegance. His mother still have all of his love letters. She had framed the first bouquet of roses that she gotten from him, together with her wedding bouquet. It’s one of the main displays in their living room, along with Brian’s trophies and awards.

“So you were not able to finish college, Mum?”

“Unfortunately, I was not.”

“Why?”

“Your brother happened,” Mrs. Taylor winked at Clare. “Although, I was able to get my HND in Business and Marketing.”

Returning his eyes on the album, despite what Roger told Brian about his insecurities growing up, he thinks that Roger looked adorable as a child. He had an apple shaped head, and his cerulean doe-eyes looked extra larger that gave him that certain elfin look. Looking at Roger’s childhood photos really warms Brian’s heart.

More importantly, the fact that Roger’s photos are now being displayed again means a big improvement has been made. When he first arrived at the mansion, there’s not even a single of trace of Roger from the photos and paintings on the walls. It almost made an impression that Clare was a single child. Also, it’s funny how Brian used to privately question Mrs. Taylor’s parenting skills back then. What’s more funnier, looking back now, is how Brian was so irritated with Roger at one point, and his shenanigans.

Really funny, indeed.

  
        Brian adjourned Clare’s class earlier than usual that Friday afternoon, as they’re just reviewing for Clare’s end-of-the-month exams. Coming from the mansion’s backdoor to the kitchen foyer, he stopped on his tracks on his way to the grand staircase when he saw that the living room’s carpeted floor was swarmed already with Roger’s birthday gifts. The gifts comes with all shapes and sizes. There’s one that even the same height as Clare. _Holy!_

“Hey there, Brian,” appearing from the main door, Mr. Edmund called him. He was holding a box in his hand. “You received a package from your Dad.”

Securing the books under his armpit, Brian takes the wrapped package. “Oh! Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” said Mr. Edmund. “By the way, Pierre told me that the car’s ready. He said that you and Roger are off to somewhere shortly?”

“Yes, sir,” Brian nods. “He said that he wants to visit Mr. Taylor’s mausoleum.”

A swift, indescribable look crossed Mr. Edmund’s face. “ _Just_ the two of you? How about Clare?”

_What was that expression just now?_

“Roger asked her to come with us. But Clare said that she already paid her visit last week,” Brian tries his best to sound neutral as possible. “She said it’s better for Roger to visit alone.”

“I see,” Mr. Edmund sighed as he turned to look at the grandfather clock. “Well...better call him now, so you can come home early. Alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Brian smiles tightly. “Thank you again for giving me this.”

“You’re welcome, young man,” Mr. Edmund smiled back. After giving Brian’s back a pat, the madame’s assistant turned his back and walks back to the door.

  
It was exactly two in the afternoon when they arrived at Cornish Heath Memorial Park. The afternoon sun was warm, yet the wind’s so cold against their skin. Roger absently clutches on the bouquet of flowers that’s been resting on his lap after Brian pulled over.

Even though it’s Brian’s first time visiting, it wasn’t that hard to spot Mr. Taylor’s mausoleum. It had a gray color all over, the four pillars were painted dirty-white, and the gated door was painted rose gold. The Taylor family name engraved in front. Cedar trees and white orchids surrounds the place beautifully.

Letting out a calming sigh, Roger turns to Brian, “Please come with me.”

“Of course, I’ll go with you,” Brian unbuckled his seat belt, and gives Roger a comforting hug. “Do you need a moment though?”

Untangling himself, Roger shakes his head. Although, after unbuckling his own seat belt, Roger remain seated on the passenger’s seat, gazing at the place from the Rolls-Royce’s window. It’s obvious that Roger is nervous, and a bit skeptical. So Brian decides that Roger needs a little friendly push to realize that there’s nothing to worry about. He stepped out the car and opened Roger’s door for him.

“Thank you,” Roger’s hand felt cold when he took Brian’s. Giving it a little squeeze, Brian leads the way.

It was quite freezing inside the mausoleum, and there’s a tinge smell of citrus, flowers, and smoke from doused candles. Amazed by the architecture and design, Brian’s eyes couldn’t help not to wander: everything is built with high quality marble, couple of crystal chandeliers, and angel statuses. The heels of their shoes clicking against the Victorian red and black patterned tiles that reminds Brian of the ones that are on the mansion’s kitchen.

“Hi, Dad…”

Stopping on his tracks, Brian thought he just witnessed a surreal moment: Roger kneeling in front of his father’s tomb, bathing with the light coming from the stained glass window. On the corner was a painting of the Taylor family portrait on an easel stand. The late Mr. Taylor all dressed in white, asleep on his wife’s lap with a smile. Clad in a white dress, pushing a lock of golden hair behind her ear, Mrs. Taylor’s leaning down for a kiss. Roger and Clare were both painted as guardian angels, floating on each side of their parents. Roger playing a harp. Clare showering her parents with red and white rose petals.

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to visit you last year. Mum sent me to this Rehab Centre shit,” there’s a sad smile look in Roger’s eyes. “I…I just couldn’t handle it anymore. It’s been so excruciating without you.”

Roger continues to apologize, and narrate what happened to him a couple of years back. Brian sat next to him on the floor. It felt as if someone’s poking Brian’s heart with a needle, multiple times, as he listens to Roger’s stories of heartbreak, and his cries.

“Dad, I’m sorry if I try to kill myself… I was selfish… my mind was clouded,” Roger’s tears keeps on flowing, Brian blots them with his handkerchief. He looked so little, vulnerable, so delicate. Brian lets his boyfriend cry his heart out. All those bottled feelings, finally being out of Roger’s system. _Finally._

“Dad… this is Brian. He’s Clare’s tutor,” Roger tries to smile with his tear stricken face. “And my boyfriend…”

Brian looks at the gold plated name of Mr. Taylor. Picturing as if he’s actually looking at the Taylor’s patriarch, he politely smiled.

“I don’t know what your reaction might be…” Roger deeply inhaled. “We love each other. And I hope that you’re happy for me, Dad. I hope you’re happy for us.”

Roger promised that he’ll try to visit frequently moving forward, and prays that Mr. Taylor watches over him, his mother, and his sister.

After their visit, Brian take Roger out for a cup of tea on the near café bistro next to the Royal Cornwall Museum. They stayed there for fifteen minutes until Roger’s completely calm down and collected himself. The drive back to the mansion was filled with comfortable silence. Once they’ve arrived it was almost quarter to five.

Busy with the preparations, Mrs. Taylor greeted them quickly, and told them to have some good rest before the party. At eight in the evening, Mr. Edmund woke Brian up and told him to start getting ready.

Freddie, Mary, and Kashmira are the first ones who arrived. Back at the May’s house, Mrs. Taylor said that they could have a sleep over at the mansion, much to their delight. Clare and Freddie clicked right away, and she adores Mary and Kashmira as if they’re her older sisters. Roger was still getting ready while the five of them hangs out in the garden.

The moment the clock hits ten in the evening, the cars starts arriving.

Mrs. Taylor approached Brian, and asked him kindly to be her assistant host for the night while they wait for Roger.

“There goes our Brian again,” Freddie chaffed.

“Actually, Freddie, mind joining him too?” Mrs. Taylor asked. “Clare, you may introduce Mary and Kashmira to the other girls. Now go! Socialize!”

And so, they dispersed as ordered, and greets the new guests. It’s more fun to play host this time, as Brian has Freddie by his side. True to Roger’s words, he didn’t invite a lot of people. If Brian’s not mistaken, there’s at least forty-five or fifty people who joined them that night.

The real party host, and one of the DJs, starts the program with a high energy. He announced that an amazing band will be doing a surprise performance later that evening. He said the guests should surely stick around, and make sure to have a fucking ball. The party spirit heavy in the air. Party finger foods starts pouring in. An _interesting_ thing that Brian noticed, there was only twenty-five bottles of Coronas. The rest? Colorful, fancy-looking mocktails. Seems that Mrs. Taylor wants to _control_ the alcohol on the party, which is really responsible of her.

“I wonder who’s performing?” one of Roger’s invited cousins, Paul (Pandora’s older brother) asked over _‘Stand By Me’_. “Do you know, Brian?”

Brian shakes his head. “I didn’t even know that there’s a band playing, till I noticed that they’re setting up the stage.”

“What do you think Roger will get as a gift?” asked Francis, one of Roger’s mates from school. “A Ferrari? A Lambo? His Rolls-Royce’s getting old, yeah?”

 _It’s a three-year-old car, mate. It’s not that old…_  
  
“I dunno. I heard he’s not allowed to drive yet, mate,” Paul shrugged.

“SMILE, LADS!” a sudden flash from a camera blinded them temporarily.

“Roger! Mate!” Brian exclaimed, trying to adjust his vision. Holding a Pentax in his hands, Roger starts laughing.

Paul and Davis playfully pounces on Roger, ruffling his hair. “Happy birthday, Roger Taylor!”

Brian snatches the camera away, and starts snapping photos of them. The guests raised their drinks, cheering, while the DJs greets/shouts ‘Happy birthday, Roger Taylor!’, and changes the music into a much upbeat song. The pretty girls in their short dresses and heels starts dancing, so naturally the boys followed. One of Roger’s friends borrowed the camera from Brian. Roger said loudly there are other three cameras that are being passed around for the guests to use.

Davies and Freddie grabs on them both, dragging them on the dance floor. But they’re quick enough to doge their prying hands. Nursing his first —and probably the last— bottle of Corona, Brian just watches them dance from a safe distance while Roger disappeared to talk to the other guests.

All of Brian’s worries about not being able to keep up with his peers, slowly dissipates, as the night grow older. To his relief, his boyfriend invited some nice people who are easy to get along with. Even the shy Mary and Kashmira are now talking to some of Roger’s classmates and cousins.

The DJs abruptly turn down the music, proposing a game to happen. One of them explained that the each contestants will be given thirty-nine single colored cups, and one different colored cup on the bottom of the stack. The game’s rule is that the player will have to move that bottom cup up on the top of the stack, by taking the top cups down to the bottom and so on. The prize of the winner will be a brand new Parker 61 fountain pen, and that excites the guests.

To heighten up the frenzy more, the DJ announced that for the next games, the prizes will be: a couple pocket radio transistors, Polaroid Swinger cameras, and View-Masters.

“And the grand price amongst all… is the latest Philips 22RL673 Boombox!” the DJ is now practically yelling on the microphone. “Are you all ready to be gobsmacked?”

The crowd enthusiastically responded with a loud cheer and claps.

“Fuck! I should be getting that as a fucking present!” Brian almost jumps when he suddenly heard Roger’s voice beside him. Reaching out to touch his birthday boy, Brian wraps his arm around Roger’s shoulders. A very friendly gesture to the eye of an outsider.

Together, they watched the first game unfold. It was such a reveling sight to see Roger laughing, and genuinely happy. Just then, they felt two hands on their shoulders.

“Boys, _someone_ wants to speak to you in private,” it was Mrs. Taylor. “Come inside for a bit.”

They followed her inside the mansion. There, sitting alone on the empty living room, was an anxious looking Pandora.

_Shit…_

Confused, Roger had already explained to his mother why he did not put her name on the invites. He sends his mother a look, as if asking, _‘Why is she here?’_

Pandora looks sullen as she stands up from the couch, hands clutching each other. “H-Happy Birthday, Roger.”

Avoiding her eyes, Roger clenches his jaw, keeping his pursed lips together. Not getting any response from her cousin, Pandora visibly swallowed nervously, and bites lower lip.

The awkward silence of the living room contrasts the noisy outside of the mansion.

“Pandora only came here to apologize to you and Brian,” Mrs. Taylor explained gently. “Mind listening to her at least?”

“I… I would like to apologize to Brian first actually,” voice a little shaky, Pandora looks like she’s about to burst into tears any moment now. “I should’ve not forced myself to you, Brian. I’m very sorry. I was mess. And I also should’ve not said those things to you, Brian. I couldn’t really remember them all, because I was so intoxicated but… I’m very sorry…”

Tears starts to stream down her face. Brian would be lying if he’ll say he didn’t feel any pity towards the girl. She looked truly distraught for what she’d done almost a month ago.

“Roger, I’m so sorry if I also said bad things towards you,” Pandora wipes her tears. “When Dad told me about the accident that happened to you the same night, I felt so horrible, that I want to quickly see you and apologize in person. But I was so embarrassed. I felt that I’m not allowed to. And I was so afraid.”

Sinking back to the seat, Pandora continues, “I’m not expecting the both of you to forgive me right away. But I just want you to know that I’m absolutely regretting my actions that night.”

“Is it just purely because of guilt, Pandora?” coldly, Roger crosses his arms.

“No,” eyes already red, she shakes her head. “I feel guilty. Yes. But I just don’t want to loose my wonderful friendship with you over one mistake. Also, Clare won’t even talk to me now. You’re the closest cousins that I’ve ever had. And I don’t want that to be put to waste.”

“Well, I can call Clare later so you can speak to her too,” Mrs. Taylor sighed.

“Thank you, Aunt Win…”

After carefully considering her sincere apology, Brian decides, “I forgive you, Pandora. Just… please don’t act like that again.”

“Thank you, Brian…”

Then there’s silence again. After a what seems an eternity later, Roger’s gaze finally softens. “I forgive you, Pandora. Stop crying, please.”

Brian saw Mrs. Taylor clutches her pearl necklace as she sighs in relief.

Leaping from the couch, Pandora immediately ran to Roger. “Thank you! Thank you, Roger!”

She hugged her cousin tightly, crying happy tears this time. Brian just noticed how badly her body is shaking, that Roger doesn’t have any choice but to hold her back. When Pandora finally calmed down and all is well, she asked if she could speak to Clare so she can go home afterwards.

Brian felt so proud when he heard Roger say, “No. Stay.”

“But… I’m dressed like this,” sheepish, Pandora pertaining to her simple pink blouse and flannel jeans.

“No worries, dear,” Mrs. Taylor takes both of her shoulders, and guides her towards the staircase. “I know I have some smaller clothes when I was younger that you could borrow.”

Before they left, Mrs. Taylor lovingly plants a kiss on Roger’s forehead. _“Je suis très fière de toi.”_

  
        Everything that follows after almost felt like a whirlwind to Brian. They joined the third game which is where they have to move three cookies from their forehead to their mouth using their facial muscles within sixty seconds. John, Roger’s third cousin from his Dad’s side, won that game, and gotten himself a Polaroid.

The DJs then left the booth after the fifth game to have the guests’ focus on the curtain covered stage.

“Now the time has come…” the first host raised his brows mysteriously. “Are you all ready to meet the band?”

“Yes!” the crowd replied.

“Is the band ready?” the second host asked. And the unknown band drummer starts teasingly hitting the cymbals. The crowd hooted.

“Everybody, give it up for… The Beatles!”

Brian thought that he and Roger would faint right then and there. When he turned to his side, Freddie’s clutching his chest as if he’s gonna have a fucking heart attack. It’s THE BEATLES for fuck sake! Mary nor Kashmira are the biggest fans, but he saw how their jaws dropped the moment the intro of _‘Sgt. Pepper’_ starts playing. The guests practically raced to be in front of the stage, and starts singing along with the band.

After the song, John Lennon thanked the Taylor family for inviting them for such amazing event. And thanked the crowd for the warm response.

Brian still pinching himself, still not believing that one of their top favorite British bands —in the actual flesh— doing a private concert for Roger’s birthday! There, just five steps away from him, were the members. He’ll surely make sure to ask for a fucking autograph later!

“Before we proceed to the next song, the band just want to greet our birthday boy, Mr. Roger Taylor, a very Happy Birthday!” Paul McCartney making an eye-contact with Roger. “Let’s greet Roger again, folks!”  
  
“Happy birthday, Roger!”

Grinning widely, Roger salutes to the band.

Then the band starts playing _‘Birthday’_ , then _‘Tomorrow never knows’_ ; to be followed by ‘ _In My Life’_ requested by the birthday boy himself. They ended their private concert with _‘Revolution’_ as their encore song. Brian felt that he was privilege enough to shake hands with the band, get a signed vinyl by all of the members, and had a small chat with them! They're all surprisingly nice and soft spoken. He also embarrassingly got lost in Paul's eyes. After the band left, the last part of the program resumes.

“You blessed handsome motherfucker, you!” Freddie grabs Roger, mussing his hair while kissing his left temple. Brian’s still grinning, as if he’s walking on cloud-nine.

“Now, it’s time for another surprise for our birthday boy!” the hosts announced again. The curious buzzing sound starts to grow.

“Wonder what it is?” Clare looks around, arms around her brother’s waist. Then Mr. Tony rolled in a big box on top of a platform trolley in front of them. “Go ahead, Roger. Look at it.”

After lifting the cover, Roger let out an excited shout. “Oh my God!”

 _Puppies!_ Two golden retrievers now on Roger’s arms. They have red bows around their necks. Clare carefully takes the other one from her brother, and cradles it like a new born baby.

“Aw! They’re so adorable!” Dominique and the other girls cooed, as they gather around closer.

“Hold on, folks! There’s still _one more present_ for our dear Roger…”

Sauntering towards her son, Mrs. Taylor wears a mysterious smile on her pink lips. Brian takes the nameless puppy from Roger’s arms, the mistress handing her son a rectangular shaped box.

“It’s a surprise from your Grandparents,” Mrs. Taylor kissed his cheek. “Open it.”

Hurriedly, Roger unwrapped the box. Inside is a key. A car key!

“No.fucking.way!” Roger turned to his mother, jaw-slacked. “ _Really?_ ”

“Check out the driveway, why don’t you?” Mrs. Taylor coolly winks at him. Roger gasped and dashes to the front of the mansion. The guests followed him like hungry chickens. But Brian and Clare remained on their spot. They’re more interested cuddling with the puppies.

“Thank you, Mum!” Clare tip-toes to kiss her mother on the cheek. “We’ve been wanting to have a dog for a long time.”

“They’re very adorable, Aunt Win,” Brian was surprised seeing John standing next to him, his fingers stretched to pet the furry little animal. “And such an amazing party as always.”

“It was a pleasure seeing you again in the mansion, John,” Mrs. Taylor touches John’s arm. “Roger raved about seeing you again all-week.”

“It was sad that Julie wasn’t able to come though,” Clare pouts as she looks up to him. John’s gray-greenish eyes crinkles at Clare fondly, “Don’t worry, love. You’ll see each other again in Boarding school anyway.”

          The last game of the party was the Scavenger Hunt. The hosts said that they’ve hidden a golden flag around the garden. And the person who is able to find it will win the Boombox as the grand prize. The hosts said that they’ll give the players ten minutes to find it.

“Ready, players! In _un, deux, trois_ … GO!”

The music blasts again, at the same time players scrambles to their feet. Some of the guests —mostly the girls— just stood and watched. Brian was about to approach Debbie and Dominique, when he felt a hand grabbing his arm.

"Gosh! Roger, be gentle with him!" worriedly, Debbie said.

Brian is now being dragged by his boyfriend somewhere deep in the garden. He have no idea where they're heading.

“R-Roger, I am not playing!” almost loosing his balance, the cold, late night air hitting Brian’s face. “Roger! Wait!”

He could hear Roger’s panting, as they continuously ran and ran until they reach Roger’s tree house. Catching his breath, Brian asks, “Is it.. is it here?”

Just in a blink, Roger pressed Brian against the tree’s trunk. “Yes. _Here_ is where I can kiss you in private.”

And he did. Brian tasting the strawberry chamomile 'martini' that he saw Roger was drinking moments before the game starts. Their kiss was only interrupted when the hosts loudly announced the winner.

It was Freddie. _Bastard!_

They could only make out the opening of _‘Can’t take my eyes off you’,_ then the closing fireworks were lit. The guests starts cheering and gasping at the same time.

Arms around each other, they watched the first few fireworks, too. Though seconds later, their lips are pressed against each other again. This is the compensation from trying not to touch too much all night. Deepening the kiss, Brian’s heart flutter when he heard a moan from Roger. And even with his eyes closed, it is as if Brian could still see the flash of the fireworks above.

When both of their lips were practically swollen, Roger melts into Brian’s arms. “This has been the best birthday ever. I couldn’t be more happier. Thank you for the pocket watch, and the one-of-a-kind bookmark. I love it.”

Pleased, Brian gave his lover a quick peck. He feels so, so,  _so_ in love with him, it's almost a dizzying feeling. “You’re worth all of this, my love.”

Roger just sweetly smiles at him, before he leans in again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nouveau Riche = new money
> 
> *J'ai vraiment envie de toi = I want you badly / I really want you
> 
> *Merde = Shit!
> 
> *Tu me rends fou = You're driving me crazy
> 
> *Je viens = I'm coming 
> 
> *Mon amour = My love
> 
> *Je t'en supplie = Please
> 
> *Je suis très fière de toi = I'm very proud of you
> 
> -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
> 
> I fucking survived the hell week!!! (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻ 
> 
> ┬─┬ノ(ಠ_ಠノ) Anyway, how are ya'll? Hope you're all doing great~!! (♡´౪`♡)  
> Sorry if the update took forever to happen. I've been REALLY busy for the past couple of weeks, and the fucking fandom drama (ugh!) didn't actually help with my writer's block. 
> 
> THANK YOU VERY MUCH AGAIN for your comments, kudos, and patience with me. (ಥ﹏ಥ) *sniff* *sniff*  
> I hope this long-ass Chapter is enough to make you forget about the long-ass wait lmao! (Really, *Chapter 8 was shookth and left the chat). 
> 
> Oooh! I am so excited to share with you Chapters *12 and *13. The devil in me is cackling already~! ψ(◣∀◢)ψ 
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ====
> 
> "My nuts feel like they're in my chest right now! Are we done?"


	12. Chapter 12

   

        **T** he rain continuously pours outside. The occasional clap of thunder doesn’t help Roger to focus on the movie he’s watching inside his dark bedroom. Stuffing his mouth with the cheese popcorn from the bowl on his lap, he returns his eyes on the screen. He and Clare are not suppose to eat any junk food or sweets before bedtime, but he couldn’t care less. Besides, he’s not a child anymore. He’s seventeen now. Moreover, his mother had already lectured him an hour before, about letting Clare play in the rain two nights ago. Now his little sister’s burning with fever in her bedroom.

“It’s not my fault, Mum!” voice laced with clear irritation, Roger insisted. His parents were gone for a business trip for the whole week, and his mother was the first to arrive that afternoon. “I told her multiple times but she didn’t listen to me. What should I have done with her then? Drag her back inside the house by the hair?”

“Roger, that’s not it,” there are bags under Mrs. Taylor’s eyes, looking tired. The diamond of her wedding ring glistening against the light as she rubs her left temple, looking like she’s anticipating a headache caused by Roger. “You could’ve warned her that she might get sick.”

“I told her that, Mother!”

“Roger…” she tries to starts calmly. But then she warns, “ _Watch_ your tone.”  
  
Biting the insides of his cheek, he looked away. Why does he always have to be responsible for Clare and her actions? He’s her older brother, not her parent. Chest heavy with anger, Roger loudly clicks his tongue and grumbles, “I’m going to bed. Good night, Mum.”

“I’m gonna let your father to continue dealing with you later, young man,” Mrs. Taylor crossed her arms, clenching her jaw.

Roger discreetly rolled his eyes after shutting the door of his parents’ joint office. _Je_ _m’en_ _fiche_.  
He thinks of checking on Clare, but then he realizes that his Dad might be there already. And the last thing that he wants right now is another lecture in front of his sister.

The past few weeks, both of his parents has been acting crossed all the fucking time. There’s a clear tension between them. Roger is not blind; he knows that his parents’ marriage is falling apart, and his heart is shattering along with it. Yes, his father still goes home to them; but Roger can see that Mr. Taylor doesn’t look at his mother the same anymore. All those fake laughter and fake smiles. His Dad still holds her in public, just for a show.

Sniffing, he wipes his tears with the sleeve of his nightshirt, Roger felt stupid for crying like a baby. He’s watching _Psycho_ for fuck sake!

“Son?” the door suddenly swung open.

Roger almost jumps, nearly spilling the bowl of popcorn all over his bed. “Oh! Hi, Dad…”

Mr. Taylor switches on the light, “You already know it’s bad for your eyesight to watch television in the dark, Roger.”

Shrugging, Roger takes in his father’s black trench coat and black boots. “Did you just arrive?”

“No. I was in Clare’s room,” Mr. Taylor shakes his gold colored head, fringe waxed neatly off his forehead. “And…I’m going back to the office.”

“At _this_ hour?” Roger frowns. When his eyes found his wall clock, it says that it’s already 11 in the evening. His parents’ office is located in Penzance, West Cornwall. It wasn’t that far, the travel only takes 20-30 minutes from the mansion. But Roger thinks that traveling at this time and weather isn’t the smartest decision that his Dad has in mind. “Can you just do it tomorrow, Dad? Stay. You can watch the movie with me.”

There was a pause. An indescribable expression crossed his Dad’s face.

Sighing, Mr. Taylor walks in and shut the door behind him. Roger’s face broke into a smile, watching his Dad remove his shoes, and crawl on the side of the bed, next to him. “Alright, champ, what are you watching?”

“ _Psycho_ …”

“Hmmm! Good pick,” Mr. Taylor wraps his arm around Roger’s shoulders, resting his back on the pillows against the headboard. “I love this movie.”

Inhaling his father’s signature Guerlain scent, Roger rested his head on his father’s shoulder as he cuddles up to him. The feeling of warmth and content comforts him. This starts to become a rare moment for them both.  
Recently, there’s one thing that Roger is really fearful of: the day his parents telling him and his sister that they’re divorcing. It pains him so bad, because growing up, Roger sees his parents as the epitome of an ideal couple.

“Dad…?”

“Hmmm?” Mr. Taylor chews on the popcorn in his mouth.

“Are you and Mum fighting still?”

“No. Your mother and I are doing fine, son.”

It was a bold lie. He’s lying. And Roger couldn’t stomach the fact that his father could lie to him like that without batting an eye. “Then why are you not as sweet and loving as before?”

“Because, Roger, your mother and I have _matured_ already,” Mr. Taylor calmly explained. “We don’t act like a newly-weds anymore. PDA is for younger couple only.”

“But…”

“You’ll understand all of this once you’re older,” Mr. Taylor pats on his forearm. Then he changes the topic, “Anyway, I really like this scene of this movie.”

Roger did not attempt to press on his question anymore. He’s just happy that his father’s here with him. Last month, he didn’t come home at all. Not the first time it happened though. He just phoned every night to check up on him and Clare, asking about their day and school.

Just as they’re watching the part where Janet Leigh as Marion Crane is going to get killed in the shower scene, Mr. Taylor asks, “Would you like to come to the office with me, after watching the movie?”

Roger looked up to his father, surprised and confused with the offer. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah…” pushing Roger’s hair off his forehead, Mr. Taylor smiles at him. “Then we’ll have breakfast together at the Country Club tomorrow morning. And we can play golf after. What do you think, Roger?”

Excitedly, Roger nods with a huge smile on his face. Ha-ha! Too bad for Clare. She can’t join them tomorrow! _Serves_ _you_ _right, you_ _stubborn_ _little bitch!_

Although, after twenty minutes or so, half-way through the movie, Roger’s eyelids starts dropping. His father must’ve noticed that he’s been trying to keep himself awake, so he says, “ _Ne_ _t’inquiètes_ _pas_ , _mon_ _fils_. I’ll wake you up later.”

He didn’t.

Half awake, Roger saw his Dad walking towards the door. The television’s already turned off. Voice cracking, he calls, “…Dad?”

Mr. Taylor stopped by the doorknob and looks over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna ask Pierre to pick you up tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Okay…” groggily, Roger waves at his Dad with a sleepy smile on his face. “Good night, Dad... _à_ _demain_ _matin_. _Je_ _t’aime_ …”

“ _Je_ _t'aime_ _plus_ , _mon_ _enfant_ ,” Mr. Taylor smiled back. Then, slowly, black goos starts to ran down his father’s nostrils. Blood foaming in his mouth, his skin turning white. Mr. Taylor’s bright green eyes rolling on the back of his skull…

Roger jolts awake. His heart racing along with his ragged breath. His back feels so sweaty, and there’s some sweat bullets forming on his temples. When he turned to his left side, Brian is cocooned under the blanket, only the tips of his dark curls showing. On his right, Freddie’s mouth is slightly open, snoring softly.  
It’s still really dark outside. Squinting to see the time, the wall clock says it’s only 4:45 in the morning.

He feels cold and warm at the same time. It’s been a while since Roger had the dream —nightmare— of that night. The night when his father had gotten into the car crash that took away his life.

Scrambling to get off the bed, Roger feels dizzy. He needs to get out of Brian’s bedroom! He needs to get out there, right now! Roger remembered the reason why he decided to leave that old bedroom of his; why he decided to sleep on a smaller guest room on the third floor of the mansion instead.

His old bedroom —Brian’s current bedroom— was the very same room where Roger last saw his father alive and breathing…

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

     “Whoa! That is so pretty!” sitting on the carpeted floor, Clare exclaimed while her hair is being braided by Kashmira that afternoon, looking at the beautiful monogrammed Japanese kimono in Brian’s hands.

The mansion’s mistress and her assistant went off to a lunch meeting, but they said that they’ll be most likely to be back before dinner time.

After sharing a fun lunch together, they’ve gathered themselves inside the Family Room, opening the gifts. It turned out that the gifts that Brian saw yesterday afternoon weren’t all for Roger; there are gifts for him _and_ Freddie as well. The guests from the previous party found out about his birthday through Mrs. Taylor. Meanwhile, Freddie gotten some as well, as he was able to successfully entertain the other guests with his “one-night private concert”.

“Oh! I love this!” Freddie’s brown eyes twinkling, holding up his own monogrammed kimono for everyone to see. “Look at this fine silk! I shall write to Mr. Yoshiki!”

“I’m still upset that you got that boombox, mate,” John jokingly comments, facing the pinball machine with a loopy smile.

Yes, the Taylor’s have their own pinball machine. They also have baseball and sharp-shooter arcade games, along with a pool table. As a new addition to their collection, Roger received a Pachinko machine as a birthday gift. It was the biggest gift that Brian saw yesterday.

Smiling, Freddie rolls his eyes. “You’re a son of a wealthy business man, John. Your father can buy you ten of these if you’ll ask. While I…” Freddie sighed dramatically. “I’m just a poor boy from a poor family…”

“You’re not _that_ poor, Freddie…” said Roger, slumped on the carpeted floor as he unboxes another gift. Beside him was yet another pair of shoes, sunglasses cases, couple of sweaters, books, and boardgames. “Also, you’re as good as a Persian Prince some years ago.”

“More like… the Persian Prince’s cousin actually…” Freddie corrected him. “Right, Kash?”

Kashmira ignored her older brother. Mary quickly looked up to him from looking at the photos from the previous party, but didn’t say anything.

That’s true. Before the Bulsara’s moved to England, they lived in a flourished state in Zanzibar. Mr. Bulsara was like one of the Senators there. Unfortunately, he had have quite some enemies. Freddie said that there was an inside war between the Government officials. Afraid that his job will continue to be a threat to his and his family’s life, they’ve decided to have a permanent residence in London to have a fresh start. It wasn’t the easiest and the greatest decision. Huge adjustments needs to be made, from their ways of living and to their parents’ jobs.

“I _miss_ being rich!” draping the kimono on his shoulders, Freddie sighed and collapses next to the seat near his sister. “I’m gonna make sure that I’m going to be a famous and wealthy Fashion Designer and stylist in the future. Just watch me.”

“But I thought that you want to be a rock star, Freddie?” Kashmira singsonged, fixing the final touches on Clare’s hair.

“Yes. I can do that, _too_ ,” Freddie throws his head back. “I’m going to be the best-dressed rockstar in the universe!”

Brian and Roger looked at each other, and rolled their eyes with a smile.

       “Are you all ready, girls?” gliding his fingers against the piano keys, Freddie asked them with a mysterious smile.

Brian doesn’t know exactly how they all ended up in the Music Room. But they did.

Perhaps, Freddie got really offended with their reaction. The reaction that they don’t believe him about being a rockstar in the future, and just want to prove — and brag— that he could be one. Also, Roger and John might want to _show-off_ their musical skills as well. Wait— no. _Roger_ wants to show-off. John might just be bored, so he just went along.

Adjusting the strap of his Red, Brian turned to his right and saw his boyfriend checking his drums for the last time. John making sure that his borrowed bass was plugged in properly to the amp. Clare checking if the video camera is going to perfectly capture their impromptu performance. “I’m gonna show this to Mum.”

Mary and Kashmira sitting on the carpeted floor to be their “audience”. It’s nice that they look excited and supportive at least.

“ _Why_ are we doing this again?” Brian asked, not the first time, after the soundcheck.

“To make sure that you’re not getting rusty, darling,” Freddie answered with a hint of haughtiness, making Brian frown. Then he smiles, “Just a joke, Brian.”

 _Prick_.

“Are you all ready, my beautiful Princesses?”

“Umm… yeah… sure..” the girls tittered.

“I can’t hear you, pretty faces!” Freddie asked again, charming yet commanding at the same time. “Are you all ready?”

“Yes!” giggling, Clare practically shouted over the older girls voice.

Brian shakes his head, still weirded out with the whole situation. At the same time, John turned to his side, shoulders shaking, controlling himself not to burst into laughter. While Roger sniggers, earning a quick death glare from their lead singer. With a weird, comical smile, the blond heir lifts the tambourine from his lap and shakes it.

Freddie composes himself, then starts counting quietly. And then…

 _“Hey_ _Jude_ , _don't_ _make_ _it_ _bad_ …  
_Take_   _a sad song, and make it better..._ ”

“Whoa…” the smug look on Roger’s face immediately dropped as gasps, clearly stupefied.

 _“Remeber to_ _let_ _her_ _into_ _your_ _heart_  
_Then_ _you_ _can_ _start_ _to_ _make_ _it_ _better”_

Nodding, a smile curling up on John’s lips, obviously pleased with what he’s hearing.

Brian secretly apologizes to Freddie in his mind. Of course, this singing bloke is Freddie. One of the most sought-out, young, and fresh vocalists in London right now. The hairs on Brian’s arms stood up as they all starts playing their instruments on the second verse. Their harmonies sounded surprisingly good as well. They sounded so impossibly good together, that he himself couldn’t believe that it’s their first performance as a quartet.

 _“So let it and let it in,_   _hey_ _Jude, begin_  
_You're_ _waiting_ _for_ _someone_ _to_ _perform_ _with_ ”

Freddie sang his heart out. It doesn’t take long for Brian to notice that John and Roger are also absorbed with the performance as well. So he decides to give his best. He pictures that the Music Room is packed with people. Watching, singing along, admiring them with hungry eyes. Begging for their attention.

Once it’s over, the girls clapped as loud as they could. Mary’s cheeks were flushed, “Oh my God! That was so good!”

“Yes! You sound like a real band!” Kashmira agreed, her face all lit up.

“Encore! Encore!” jumping up and down, Clare demanded. “Please?”

Refusing, Freddie shake his head. “That’s all that you could get for free from me and the lads.”

“Boo!” Roger jokingly disapproved making Brian laugh.

“Alright! Just one more song,” Freddie waves his hand, as if he’s giving them all a big favor. “Shall we play Roger’s favorite since it was his birthday yesterday?”

After they played _‘In my life’,_  Roger lunges on Freddie, his odd yet adorable gesture of thanking him. “Alright! I’m famished! Let’s eat some of the cake from yesterday.”

Brian and John places their instruments down. Moments later, they all made their way downstairs a bit noisily. Roger and Freddie laughing about something, arms around each others shoulders. Kashmira and John having their own conversation (these two danced with each other a few times last night). Clare is asking if Mary can teach her basic sound language. And Brian, pouting, because he has no one to talk to.

Mr. Tony ordered the maids to prepare the picnic blanket in the garden. Brian offered helping Chef Solomon with the food serving after walking inside the kitchen.

“So how was the party?” the Chef asked as he adds more frosting on the left-over white chocolate birthday cake, making it new again. “I heard _The_ _Beatles_ performed last night.”

“Yes. And they were amazing,” Brian answered, watching in fascination as the Chef expertly creates roses frostings. “And the party was amazing. And we loved all the scrumptious food that you prepared for us! Thank you, Chef.”

“That’s good to know,” Chef Solomon’s gray eyes crinkled by the corners. Then his gaze move to the casement windows that views the garden. The others whooping in joy when Mr. Bennet brought out Bailey and Lysander —the adorable puppies— for them to play with.

Brian couldn’t help himself not to follow his boyfriend’s every move. Roger’s mouth hanging open as he laughs, the high color of his cheeks, his hair being blown by the wind, running in circles to chase their little Golden Retrievers.

“Brian?”

“Yes, Chef?”

“I am so glad that I was able to see those children smiling and laughing carelessly again,” Chef Solomon said. Then he points at Roger, “Especially him. I am thankful that he found a friend in you.”

Hearing those words warms Brian’s heart. At the same time, it made him a bit guilty. Because he and Roger are certainly more than friends.

“Let’s bring these outside now, shall we?” Chef Solomon carefully lifts the cake stand while Brian trails behind him.

  
       They’re totally living the life that day. After devouring the cake, and playing with the puppies, Brian found himself floating in the water of the mansion’s indoor pool along with Freddie, Mary, Kashmira, John, and Clare.

Roger, who refused on joining them, busies himself by snapping photos of them instead. “Shit! I just remember Mum told me that one camera’s missing from last night.”

“Oh! That sucks…” Clare said empathically, although she doesn’t sound that worried.

“Fuck! Those epic photos are gone now,” groaning, Roger clicks his tongue.

Brian understands that Roger is mostly annoyed because of loosing those captured moments of his party. Though, he couldn’t really relate how _unbothered_ Roger —and Clare— by the fact that he lost a £30 Kodak along with it.

“Anyway, I’m going to my room,” said Roger, scratching the side of his head.

“Why don’t you just take a quick dip, Rog?” Freddie tries for the nth time. “Don’t worry, darling. Brian’s here to save you again if— _if you know what I mean_ …”

Mary slapped his wet back. “Cut it out! That’s not funny, Freddie.”

It seems like Roger didn’t take him seriously, but flips him off before heading out to the sliding glass door.

“That’s so insensitive of you, Fred,” Brian scolds him, getting out of the pool. He saw how his friend’s expression changes, but Freddie tries to play it off by saying, “It’s just a joke, dear…”

Half-drying himself up, Brian puts on the white cotton robe. He heard Freddie asking John if he said too much. John flat out told Freddie that he talked out-of-his ass just now.

“Don’t worry, Freddie. Brian will talk to Roger for you,” Clare assured him. “Right, Brian?”

“I’ll try…” raising both of his shoulders, Brian heads to the sliding glass door that Roger left opened. Just as he stops to change his footwear from a pair of pool flip-flops to his suede moccasin indoor flip-flops, he heard Freddie shrieks, at the same time he heard loud giggles from the girls.

“This is for bullying my brother!” Clare laughs. “Kash, don’t let go of his ankles!”

“I won’t!”

Up in Roger’s bedroom on the third floor, Brian found him, down on all fours on the carpeted floor — _unfortunately_ not naked— busy looking for something under his bed. His boyfriend clearly didn’t notice him walking in. So Brian carefully and quietly shuts the door and locks it. A naughty idea clicks his brain.

Unguarded, he takes Roger by the hips. Then began dry-humping him.

“O-Oh! Wha— fuck! _Brian!_ ” Roger shrilled, grabbing his cold hands. “Brian! We both know that I’d very much like to do this when we’re both naked, thank you very much!”

Snaking his arm around Roger’s waist, Brian flips him over to face him. Once Roger has steadied, Brian lazily smiles at him. His boyfriend cheekily grinned back.

“Did you lock the door?” Roger jutting his chin towards it, cupping the back of Brian’s neck.

Nodding, Brian leans down to take the first kiss that they’ll have that day. Naturally, Roger welcomed him whole-heartedly, and responds to him lovingly. It’s quite hard to steal a kiss, now that they’re surrounded with many of their friends. Too risky. Freddie nor John won’t leave their side easily. This is the first time today that they’re both alone in a room.

A feeling of relief floods Brian’s chest, sighing against Roger’s lips, too sweet, from eating too much cake. He loves this type of kiss: slow, passionate, just pure love. It’s the type of kiss that would make Brian’s head spin, and feel light. He loves how the tip of his nose, bumping and bending, against Roger’s face. His hand on Roger’s soft hair, the other one cupping his warm cheek. Roger’s body melting against his. The sound of his little moans.

Brian was just starting to enjoying the kiss when…

“Roger?”

Knocking, John calls out,“Roger? You in there, mate?”

_Fuck!_

Pulling away, Brian sighed disappointedly. Resting both of their foreheads together, he whispers as he promise, “We’ll continue this… once they’re all gone.”

Hands squeezing Brian’s asscheeks, Roger looks at him darkly under heavy lids, “Next time, I want you to plough me.”

Brian just smiles at his words. After a quick peck, he went straight to Roger’s bathroom to hide.

“Hey, John,” he heard Roger cleared his throat. “Sorry, I was looking for the camera.”

“It’s fine. Is Brian still inside?”

“Nah. He left a little while ago,” Roger lied smoothly. “Hey, you wanna have a smoke?”

“Sure. I’m just gonna get change.”

Seconds later, Brian heard the door shut. After waiting for a couple of minutes, Brian quietly opened the bathroom door, and escaped Roger’s bedroom like a thief.

Back in his own bedroom, Brian found Freddie sitting on his bed, already dressed, and combing his hair.

“Hey, Fred…”

“Hey…” Freddie greets back, but didn’t look at him. Didn’t even ask him why he’s still in his robe.

Thinking that Freddie still feels bad about what he said to Roger, Brian wordlessly takes some clean clothes from his closet, and heads to the bathroom for a quick shower. Just as he’s scrubbing his chest, Brian realized that he left his locket on one of the pool lounge chairs. “Fuck!”

Hurriedly, Brian rinsed off and get dressed.

“Brian, can I talk to you?” Freddie is now sitting on his study desk, arms crossed over his chest.

“Um… can that wait, Fred?” toweling his hair, Brian decides that he’ll just completely dry his hair later. “There’s something I left by the pool that I need to get.”

Freddie’s eyes made him stop on his tracks. His friend sizing him up, making Brian feel a little uncomfortable. “What, Fred?”

He didn’t get any answer. Instead, Freddie threw something across him.

It was his locket.

“I found that on the floor. Under one of the chairs.”

Hearing his blood rushing through his ears, Brian doesn’t know to react —or what to say even. With Freddie’s demeanor, he doesn’t really have to ask the question. Freddie _knows_ now.

Awkward silence stretches between them. Brian was left speechless.

Freddie’s eyes studying him. “Do you hate me, Brian? Do you not trust me anymore?”

Surprised, Brian looks at his friend, “No, Fred. It’s not like that!”

“Then why did you lie to me?” Freddie sounds wounded. “Are you thinking that I’m gonna judge you and Roger?”

“No… I mean _yes!”_ Brian doesn’t know how to start explaining. “Also, we’re trying to be cautious. We cannot afford to be caught.” Nervously, Brian adds, “Fred, please tell me you’re the only one who saw this.”

“Mary saw it as well,” Freddie answered. At the same time, Brian felt his heart drops.

 _So_ _there_ _are_ _two_ _people_ _who_ _knows_ _now_ …

Shaken, Brian turned his back, legs feeling wobbly as he walks towards his bed. Hunch over, elbows resting on his thighs, Brian buried his face in his hands. The cold feeling of his locket on his palm, pressing on his left cheek. _So_ _much_ _for_ _being_ _cautious_.

He felt Freddie’s hand on his shoulder. “Look, Brian, we are not judging you. Mary and I are actually very happy for you both.”

Brian takes a glance of Freddie. Soft expression and smiling, Freddie wraps his arms around him. The feeling of acceptance feels so good. Eyes starts welling up, Brian desperately fought back the tears.

“I understand that you’re both not ready to tell everyone else about it,” gently, Freddie said. “I just want you to know I’m supporting you both with your relationship.”

“Fred, I’m scared...” Brian admitted, the tears finally made their appearance. “I don’t know how our families will take it once they finds out.”

“We’ll figure it out once we get there, darling,” in a calming tone, Freddie told him. Then he adds, “For now, just enjoy what you both have. And be _extra_ cautious next time, Brian. Keep that locket chained on your neck at all times. It’s a good thing that we were walking behind Clare and John a while ago.”

Untangling himself, Brian nods as he wipes his tears. “Thank you, Fred.”

Freddie stares at his face again. “Can I tell you something, Brian?”

“Sure…”

“Before knowing this…I already had a feeling that you’re secretly harboring some feelings for Roger.”

“W…What?”

Sighing, Freddie leans back on the bed a bit, eyes trailing on the ceiling. “The night when you saved Roger, I’ve never seen that part of you. Honestly, I was surprised. Also a bit jealous, because we’ve been friends longer than the two of you, yet…”

Brian lightly toed Freddie’s foot. “Fred…”

“Then your birthday happened. _Ugh!_ Honey was practically dripping from your eyes whenever you’re around him, darling,” Freddie made a faux-repulsed expression to lighten up the tensed mood.

“Really?” Brian gasps worriedly. “Am I _that_ obvious?”

“Hmm… not with the normal eyes. No,” Freddie rolled his neck around. “But of course, you know me. I can be very observant if I want to.”

Brian’s stomach did some weird flip. He doesn’t know why, but he suddenly remembered Mr. Edmund’s watchful green eyes on him. On them.

“And I can also see that Roger likes you very much,” Freddie gently takes his locket from his hand. “Last night, there are moments when you’re busy talking to someone, and Roger’s there, right next to you. It almost looks like the blond fellow’s undressing you in his mind!”

“Fred!” Brian felt a blush crept up his face.

Freddie stops himself from laughing at his reaction. “Are you both happy?”

“Very happy.”

His friend nods approvingly. Then with a sly smirk, he asks, “Tell me, Brian: how many badgers did you sacrifice in the woods to make the Prince Roger Taylor to be this arse-over-tit for you?”

“I didn’t sacrifice anything!” grinning, Brian kiddingly lobs his friend with a pillow. “In fact, Roger was the one who kissed me first.”

Mouth formed an ‘o’, Freddie then wiggles his brows mischievously, “And _he’s_ also the one who gave you the hickeys that I saw, am I right?”

Snatching his locket back from Freddie’s hands, Brian scowls at him. He’s not really planning to go on telling Freddie full-details.

“Come ooon, Brian! Just some details please!” Freddie shake him by the shoulders. “What positions have you tried so far? How did it feel? Did it feel so good as Tom described? _Pleaseee?_ That’s the least you can do for me, I’m keeping my big mouth shut for you!”

“No, Fred!” firmly, Brian declined Freddie’s pleads while putting on his locket back.

Sighing, Freddie jumps off the bed. “Alright…”

Brian raised his brow. Normally, Freddie will manipulatively push people to dish-out their secrets. “Where are you going?”

Smiling devilishly at him as he unlocks the door, Freddie answers, “I’m just gonna ask Roger then…”

“Freddie! No!” scrambling off the bed, Brian chases after him.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

    

      Roger felt invincible that moment. He felt like a powerful King, sitting on his rightful throne a.k.a Brian’s dick. There, in the secluded part of Goss Moor, where it’s all tall trees, colorful wild flowers, and a dreamy, overlooking lake resides, parked Roger’s new Alfa Romeo Spider.

The car’s interior squeaks along with his bouncing movements. Cramped in the passenger’s seat, sweaty naked bodies intertwined as one; fresh, clean air kissing their flushed skins with the car’s open convertible, and the sound of birds singing along with a number from Schubert. One of Roger’s sexual fantasies has finally happened. And this is much _better_ than he imagined it would be.

Brian’s hands are _everywhere_ : softly caressing his face, tracing his shoulders and arms, smoothing his back then his chest, on his waist, parting his asscheeks, leaving goosebumps on his thighs, and stroking Roger with expert fingers.  
The late afternoon heat giving Brian’s high cheeks more rosy glow, purple eyelids, thick dark eyelashes, brows furrowing a little. Brian’s dark, wavy curls sticking on his neck, and parted pink lips bitten with Roger’s kisses.

Roger’s mouth almost water with the sight in-front of him. He proudly smiled to himself. _He’s_ _mine._

Leaning down, he mouthed kisses on Brian’s Adam’s apple and neck, teeth purposely catching the chain of the locket that he gifted.

“Roger…” Brian’s hand skims to squeeze his asscheek, before giving it an audible smack. The move made him let out a gasp. Nevertheless, Roger loves it when Brian do these things to him. As a reply, he grabs on Brian’s face, and starts roughly kissing him.

“F-Fuck… so good!” panting, Brian shudders in between kisses.

“And you want more, right?” Roger couldn’t even recognize the almost high and flirtatious purr that escaped his mouth. He sinks more deeper, and tightens his muscle around Brian’s, “…Right, _mon_ _amour?”_

“ _Oh!”_ groaning, feverishly Brian nods his head. “Y-Yes… oh… yes! Please!”

Roger’s on fire. This is _his_ moment. He’s in-charge this time. Biting down on Brian’s bottom lip, his boyfriend moaning heavily against his face. When Brian re-opened his eyes again, they’re so glassy with lust and desire, that Roger couldn’t think of anything else but to hungrily kiss him again. It is always such a marveling sight to see Brian stripping down that sophisticated and refined nature of him, even for a short while. Roger picks up in a much harsher and faster phase, that leaves them almost breathless.

“Roger, please…” voice cracking in the middle, Brian’s nails slightly catching the skin of his back. “I can’t… please…”

“Hmmnn…? Are you close, _mon_ _ange_?” Roger purposely did muscle control again, making Brian let out a shocked moan. Desperate and a little irritated, Brian steadied him on his hips. Then he starts meeting his thrusts with his own, ass slightly lifted from the seat, hitting Roger’s sweet spot multiple times. “You’re such a little devil…!”

Head thrown back, Roger savored the feeling for a couple of minutes, before he fights for dominance again.

Gripping on Brian’s both wrists, a little tighter than normal, his boyfriend starts violently writhing around beneath him and wails in dissatisfaction. _Fuck!_ That sound sends Roger a delicious and electrifying feeling straight to his dick. He distracts Brian’s thrashing by kissing him gently this time, almost like an apology. And it did calm him a little. Just a little. Because when Roger starts moving again, Brian is also crying again in desperation for release.

“Oh Go—! R-Roger, plea— _umf!”_ he silenced Brian with a kiss.

Taking one of Brian’s hands, Roger guides it to his cock. Carefully lifting himself off Brian, he slowly removes the condom off his dick. Brian looks up to him, worried, and stops touching him.

“Don’t worry, my gorgeous one,” kissing his cheek, Roger assures him. “Just want your baby batter on my entrance. That’s all.”

“I… okay?”

“Now touch me, please…”

It was pure bliss after they finished. It feels so amazing to feel this sated again, after four days of not having sex with his boyfriend.

Sat on the driver’s seat, Roger decides to smoke while Brian cleans them both (Roger planned this, so he came prepared with a bag and stuff). After his boyfriend’s done with his task, Brian rests his back against the seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and closes his eyes. Transferring the cigarette from his one hand to the other, Roger stretches out to caress Brian’s smooth flushed cheek and his jaw. Then it goes down to his chest, to his abdomen, to his groin…down to his soft cock…

Couldn’t help himself, Roger’s face broke into a grin.

“Roger…” groaning, Brian opened an eye and removes Roger’s hand. Then he places it back to his own thigh. “Enough for now...”

“But I just want to give you a massage…” batting his eyelashes, Roger feigns innocence. “…to relax you…”

They’ve already had _two_ _rounds_ of amazing shag before that; Roger is just up for some teasing. With a crooked sleepy smile, Brian shakes his head. Roger carefully takes the cotton blanket that he also brought, and covers both of their lower body parts.

He’s also quite sleepy as well, but Roger decides to just sleep on their way back to the mansion. Brian is the one who is driving his car anyway. Turning on his side, Roger watches Brian doze-off in peace for half an hour or so. Brian looks younger in his sleep, especially with his face relaxed like this.

If Roger is to go back in time, and tell the Roger from last year that he’ll madly fell in love with one of Clare’s tutors, he’ll be most likely to volunteer himself to stay in that Rehabilitation Centre to be locked up there, forever. Roger could not even imagine falling in love again, after series of heartbreaks.

It turned out that the person Roger imagined who’d help him fix his broken heart, is not a beautiful girl with long hair, and breathtaking smile.

Instead, it’s a gorgeous older and taller boy, who speaks in pure intelligence, genuinely acts in kindness, and treats Roger like a priceless gem that no wealth could afford. The one who proves to Roger that there are so many things life can offer to him, if he’ll allow. The one who gets mad when Roger does not take care of himself. The one who got heated when Roger called himself ‘worthless’. The one who blushes whenever Roger compliments him. The one who sometimes still couldn’t believe that Roger’s his. All his.

The one who believes Roger is really smart, and can do great things in life in the future.

A single tear rolled down his cheek before he could even notice it. Feeling that he’s acting silly and pathetic again, being carried away with his overflowing emotions, Roger wipes his tears with the blanket that covers his lap and legs.

“Ugh! It’s preposterous how I love you so much, you bastard,” jokingly, Roger wrinkles his nose as he talks to the sleeping Brian. “You don’t know how much you drive me crazy.”

Chuckling to himself, Roger suddenly remembered the memory from the first time Brian arrived at the mansion: the moment his Rolls-Royce reached the driveway, Roger was already waiting and watching over from his bedroom window. He was surprised seeing how _young_ Clare’s tutor was.  
Still with an angry and mean heart, Roger decided on scaring Brian. While Brian and Mr. Edmund were discussing about his tutoring contract, Roger acted like a ghost (it was stupid. Roger knew it himself). In Roger’s defense, Brian had mistaken him for Clare. Also, Roger thought back then, that his mother was immediately smitten with Brian. And he thought that Brian was also flirting back when he kissed the back of his mother’s hand.

And so, when the real Clare Taylor arrived, Roger warned her about her new tutor. He told Clare a lie, about the _possibility_ of Brian being one of their mother’s lovers. That Mrs. Taylor hired Brian, so he can slowly win Clare’s heart and easily accepts him as their new soon-to-be step-father. Then he’ll try to win over Roger after.

“Are you sure about that, Roger?” still tired from her long journey, Clare’s brow was raised. His sister obviously doubtful. “That’s the _same_ thing that you said about Mr. Edmund when he became Mum’s assistant.”

“Well, _what_ _if_ I’m right this time?” Roger insisted. “Just don’t trust him right away.”

But of course, Clare is not dumb nor gullible. Moreover, Brian is not the person Roger described him to be. The next day, his sister and her tutor are already inseparable. Roger was miserably left out.

Cutting from reminiscing the good old memories, Roger saw Brian stirred.

“What?” brows furrowed as he squints, Brian asked. Perhaps confused why Roger’s grinning at him. Then he used his palm to wipe his face, “Did you put something on my face?”

“Why would I put something on your face, idiot?” still smiling, Roger rolled his eyes. “I just remembered something that’s why I’m smiling.”

Brian grunted in response, then he yawns as he stretches.

“How was your nap, sleeping beauty?”

“Great,” Brian yawns again. Then he sends him a lazy smirk, “I dreamt about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… you were a witch. And I was Red Riding Hood.”

“Get dressed!” Roger laughs. Then he adds, “Or else, you won’t see me riding your hood later.”

  
         It was already dark when they arrived. Mr. Tony immediately greets them by the door, and the sound of grand piano welcomed them.

“Oh! Someone wants to impress Ms. Astanova,” Roger kisses the top of Clare’s head. “We bought some cake.”

“Sounds good, Clare,” complimenting, Brian did the same.

“Thank you,” focused, Clare’s face was almost burrowed against the music sheet as she tries to play the difficult part of Für Elise. “I need to perfect this one for my exam next week.”

“Good luck with that then,” Roger gives her a thumbs up.

“I’ll just bring this to the kitchen,” Brian told them, carrying the box of cream custard cake that they bought from a Pâtisserie on their way home.

After dinner that night, Roger decided to speak to his mother about an important thing: it’s about his decision to finally attend College.

“Hey, Mum…”

“Come here, Roger,” Mrs. Taylor gestured him to sit down. “You said that this is very important?”

“Yes, it is.”

Mrs. Taylor nods, and sat on the seat across him. Not knowing how to start, Roger serves her tea first. Then served himself after.

“Are you finally going to tell me your _secret?”_

Roger looked up to his mother, eyes-wide, almost dropping the sugar cube on the floor. “What?”

“You’re _in_ _love_ , aren’t you?” Mrs. Taylor smiled at him, all-knowingly. “Am I right, Roger?”

“Mother!” frowning, Roger whined. Although in reality, his whole being is now shaking.

 _Oh_ _my God! Does she know?! DOES SHE KNOW?!_

“Well I can’t help not to notice, Roger,” laughing softly, Mrs. Taylor raised both of her shoulders. “It’s just you look different these days. You’re getting more handsome —not that I’m complaining. It’s almost as if you’re glowing…”

‘ _It’s_ _the sexual afterglow!’_ there goes that rotten and evil voice inside Roger’s head.

Embarrassed and scared at the same time, Roger covered his face with his hands. Mrs. Taylor softly laughs again and apologize. “Okay! Okay! I’ll stop teasing you, son. What is it?”

Ears feeling hot, Roger tries to calm down and composes himself. _She doesn't know! She’s just teasing you!_

“I’m ready to go to College, Mum,” in a serious voice, Roger told her. “I would like to take ‘Business’ as my course of choice.”

Gasping, Mrs. Taylor’s eyes twinkled. A beautiful and pleased smile on her face. “Oh! Roger! _Really?_ I’m so happy to know that!”

Roger smiled back. “I just want to make you and Dad proud of me. Thank you for your patience with me for the years I’ve been difficult. And… I’m sorry as well…”

“Oh, son!” Mrs. Taylor starts to get teary-eyed. She then opens her arms for him. “Come here, _mon_ _enfant_ …”

Roger allowed his mother to envelope him into a hug. “Roger, I’m the most happiest and proudest mother right now. I’m sure your father will be feeling the same thing.”

“I hope so too, Mum…”

“Of course he will,” Mrs. Taylor cups Roger’s face. “And you said you want to take ‘Business’?”

“Yes. I’ve already decided,” Roger confirmed. “Brian suggested some schools in London. But I’m really interested on going to Imperial myself.”

Mrs. Taylor sighed as she wipes her tears. “Of course, I should’ve expected that you’re thinking on going to London. Now your mother is going to be one old, lonely lady inside this huge house.”

“Mum…”

“I’m just kidding, love,” Mrs. Taylor smiled. “And besides, I’ll have Bailey and Lysander to accompany me, once you and Clare both starts going back to school.”

“They’ll both be surely spoiled by you,” Roger smiled back. “And, Mum, thank you again for the wonderful birthday celebration. I couldn’t really ask for more.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for my beloved son.”

For the first time in a long time, Roger kissed the back of his mother’s hand. The familiar strawberry sweet scent of hers brought back some good memories: his Mum taking him to the park, his Mum teaching him how to read, and his Mum nursing him when he was sick.  
It is so, _so_  nice to finally take down those walls that Roger built between them. How the weight on his chest feels lighter, and he feels better than before.

They talked in private for almost a good solid hour, the longest conversation they’ve had so far. Roger had forgotten how much he missed talking to her like this. How much he missed her.

“By the way, any luck finding the missing camera?” Mrs. Taylor asked, sipping her second cup of tea.

“No, Mum. I’ve searched even my bedroom, but it wasn’t there,” Roger frowns. “I hope someone will still turn it in though.”

Then, Roger called it a night after starting to feel sleepy. Also, he’s aware that Mr. Edmund keeps on checking if he’s still there, as he keeps on adding work files on his mother’s desk.

No longer wants to hold her up, Roger bade her goodnight. “Good night, Mum. Thank you again for listening, and making time for me.”

“I love you,” Mrs. Taylor blows him a kiss. Then she exclaimed, “Oh! Roger, that’s a very nice pocket watch you got there.”

Almost sheepishly, Roger taps on it, “Thanks, Mum. Brian gifted this to me.”

“Oh… really? That’s adorable,” Mrs. Taylor smiled at him sweetly. “Are the two of you going to be sleeping together again tonight?”

_What?_

“S-Sorry?” Roger stuttered.

“I mean, you sometimes sleep in each others room, right?” Mrs. Taylor clarified. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

 _Oh_ …

“Sometimes…” Roger confessed. “But not as bad as before.”

Mrs. Taylor hums in approval. Smiling, she says, “Well goodnight then, my love.”

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

          Exceptionally pleased with the result of Clare’s exams, Brian was almost smiling from ear-to-ear as he submits the exams compilation to Mrs. Taylor, one afternoon, on the first week of August. His adorable pupil finally managed to perfect _all_ of her exams, making her cry and jump for joy. Brian was so happy himself, he and Clare waltzed inside the main library after he checked all of it. Jade laughed at them as she watched them dance without music.

“She got everything perfect! Wow!” Mrs. Taylor cried in disbelief. “What’s more amazing, Brian, is Clare also performing really well with her other classes.”

“That’s some marvelous news, Madame!”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Taylor agreed. “It’s been a while since she managed to get amazing grades like these.”

“I know it’s too early to tell, but I suppose that we might see her getting more recognition in her classes once she’s back in Boarding School,” Brian said.

Mrs. Taylor places down the papers in her hands and looked at Brian, “I can’t believe that five months already flew by so easily. Just in a few weeks, you and Clare will be back in London again.”

Brian sadly lowers his eyes. Of course, she’s talking about the end of his tutoring contract. It’s a fact that he couldn’t stay in the mansion forever. Clare will be back in Rhoedean. Brian will be back to take his PhD at Imperial College. Meanwhile, Roger…

“Roger already talked to me about College,” as if Mrs. Taylor read his mind. “He told me he’s ready to take up Business. I couldn’t believe it! When Roger’s younger, he always said that he wanted to be a dentist.”

“A dentist?” Brian chuckles. He pictures Roger in a white dentist gown. Roger looks pretty hot in Brian’s imagination actually.

“Yes,” smiling, Mrs. Taylor laced her fingers together and rests her chin on the top. “My cousin, his Aunt Crystal, is a dentist. Both of my children adored her very much, and I think Roger got inspired by her. When he was fourteen, he also did some part-time job as her clinic’s assistant. It was a good practice, as Roger was exposed to people —mostly children— and he was able to save up money. So whenever he and Dominique went out, he has money of his own.”

“Oh really?” Brian forces himself to smile on that one. Putting extra effort to show his enthusiasm, as there’s a tiny jealous part of him, not particularly happy that his brain offered him a mental image of Roger and Dominique being happy together.

“Brian?”

“Yes, Madame?”

She paused for a bit, as if quite hesitant. But then she still asks, “Is there _something_ going on between you and my son?”

Stunned, Brian blanches and froze on the spot. “M-Madame?”

“I think you heard my question, dear,” Mrs. Taylor pointed out calmly.

Letting out a shaky laugh, Brian pretends that he took her question as a joke. “Madame, there’s nothing going on between me and Roger. I— sorry! Your question just caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

That was the safest answer Brian could immediately think about. His heart beat now racing like an out-of-control needle on a sewing machine. The fake smile still stretched in his face.

The smile that Mrs. Taylor sends him did not even reach her eyes. “I just want to get that cleared up, Brian. You know that I am very supportive of your friendship. But, sometimes… it seems that you two are _too_ _close_ than normal best friends…”

“Roger and I are _just_ friends, Madame,” the words burns against Brian’s tongue, and as if someone is squeezing his heart. This is the day that he and Roger fears of. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Freddie was wrong when he thought that the mistress will support his and Roger’s relationship, because of her kindness and affection towards Brian. And Brian felt fucking stupid for thinking the same way.

“Sorry if my question made you feel uncomfortable, dear,” gently, Mrs. Taylor touches his arm. “I hope you understand.”

“It’s fine, Madame,” hoping that he sounds normal, Brian felt as if he’s stabbing himself. Somehow, he also felt that he’s betraying Roger that moment. “Anyway, is there anything else that you want to ask me?”

“Yes, actually,” Mrs. Taylor smiled at him, genuine and relaxed this time. “Roger said that he’s interested to be enrolled at Imperial College. I just want to know the basic requirements, if you still remember them.”

  
          It was supposedly a fun Wednesday night. Before dinner, Brian, Roger, and Clare are watching Lysander and Bailey, having a swim at the indoor pool. Mr. Bennet and Jade are with them too.

“I accidentally did something _horrible_ this afternoon,” moments later, Roger then whispered to him and Clare.

“What?” Clare asked, looking at her brother puzzled. “Uh-oh! Roger, what did you do?”

“You know those Japanese garden gnomes that Dad gifted Mum…” Roger looks very guilty. “…I accidentally ran them with the car…”

Brian gasped. “What!?”

“Shit!” Clare clapped her hands over her mouth. “All of them?”

“No! Not all of them…” defensive, Roger’s voice slightly raised. “Just one… or two…”

“Roger, there’s only _two_ of them!” Clare snapped angrily. Then she adds very worriedly, “Oh my God! Mum’s gonna _kill_ you!”

Brian feels bad for his boyfriend, but he knows that Roger deserves the lecture. Roger was told that he was not allowed to drive —multiple times— until he gets his license back.

“I know! But it was an accident!” Roger still tried to reason out.

As if right on cue, Mr. Edmund walks in, followed by a very angry looking Mrs. Taylor. Chill run down Brian’s spine.

“Good evening, Madame,” Brian, along with Mr. Bennet and Jade, politely greets the mansion’s mistress. Mrs. Taylor responds with her brow raising, lips set into a straight line.

“Hi, Mum…” Clare made a slight wave. Then nervously shoots her brother a look. Meanwhile, Brian heard Roger sharply cussed under his breath. His boyfriend turning his head away, avoiding looking at his mother.

“Jade, take Clare to her room,” Mrs. Taylor ordered, her voice cold.

Jade quickly take Clare’s hand and flee out of the place as if it’s on fire. Not wanting to be a target of her anger as well, Brian decides to follow them.

“And _where_ do you think you’re going, young man?”

Brian halted. “I— I thought—”

Mrs. Taylor did not let Brian finish speaking as she barks, “You two. In my office. Now!”

Then she quickly marches out. He heard Roger asking Mr. Edmund what’s going on, but his mother’s assistant just told them to follow the mistress in an urgent tone.

Mrs. Taylor’s office, all of the sudden, feels warm and cold at the same time. Brian wants to think that he’s just having a nightmare. But the realistic part of him is telling him that this is all happening now; they don’t have any choice nor can’t escape this.

The moment the door slammed shut, Mrs. Taylor sharply ordered them to sit on the opposite sofas in-front of her desk.

_She found out! They’ve been found out!_

“Mum, I’m so sorry about the gnomes,” nervously, Roger starts explaining. “It was an accident! I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! Look, I’m so sorry—”

“What do you mean, Roger?” Mrs. Taylor cuts him off sharply, eyes like daggers. “What are you saying?”

When Roger turned to look at him, Brian immediately lowered his eyes and look away. Brian is not sure if his boyfriend is just acting in denial, or if he’s just completely clueless about the situation.

“I accidentally ran on the gnomes that Dad gave you… I—” Roger sounded so small and weak.

“YOU WHAT?!”

“M-Mum, I’m so sorry…”

Brian shut his eyes, gripping on the seat’s cushion. He’s very scared right now! His whole-being shaking in fear. It feels as if he’s going to throw up. He’s no different from a prisoner waiting on his death row. 

Then he heard Mrs. Taylor whimpers as she sinks bank on her office chair. “ _Je_ _n'arrive_ _pas_ _à_ _y_ _croire_ …”

The tensed silence that comes after that was almost deafening. Brian doesn’t know how to approach the mistress in this situation. He couldn’t even look at her at all! Brian have never seen her that angry before.

Just then, Mr. Edmund cleared his throat. “Three days after Roger’s birthday, an _anonymous_ package was sent to the Madame’s office. We asked the Security Team to have it checked for us, because we’re afraid that it might be a bomb… or something dangerous inside.”

The assistant then placed something on the table in front of them. “It turned out to be a camera. Roger’s camera. The missing one.”

“So Brian and I are supposedly gonna get a lecture over some stupid _camera_?” Roger throws his hand in the air. “Is this what it’s all about, Mum?”

Brian couldn’t wish for anything right now but for Roger to shut his mouth.

“Did you seriously think that I’ll lecture you over some _stupid_ camera, Roger?” Mrs. Taylor countered, fuming. “Do you really have no idea how serious this situation is?”

“Roger, it’s not just the camera that’s inside the package,” brows furrowed, Mr. Edmund continue explaining. “The person who sent it back had also developed the negatives. And…just this morning… we found _some_ couple of photos…”

This time, the assistant placed a stack of photos on the table.

Hesitantly, he and Roger both reached out and starts sifting them. The photos showed nothing but amazing snaps from that fun night: Roger and Clare dancing, a smiling Roger with Debbie and Dominique, then there’s Freddie, Brian and Roger laughing, a candid photo of John and Brian talking. There’s a shot of Roger with his friends, Roger with Paul and Pandora. Boys posing with their Coronas and mocktails. Photos of girls dancing. The DJs. A couple of photos of The Beatles performing.

As they reached the last photos, both of them pulled back instantly. It was when their eyes landed on a photo of them… _kissing_.

Brian saw how Roger’s breath hitched and immediately turned pale. His boyfriend’s shaky hand then swiftly checks the other photos below it: it’s still the two of them kissing, hugging, looking into each other’s eyes lovingly. From the photo’s angles, it looks like it’s been taken from some distant from where they were that night.

Roger opened his mouth and says, “M-Mum…we were drunk…”

“Bullshit!” Mrs. Taylor slammed her fist against the mahogany table. “Can you give me a better _lie_ than that?”

Roger clenched his jaw, teary-eyes on their photos.

“Madame…” that word sounds as if it’s choking Brian. “I’m so sorry…”

“I trusted you, Brian!” Mrs. Taylor spat in gritted teeth. “I asked you about this, but then you boldly lied to my face! How could you?!”

The scared tears starts racing down Brian’s face. He could feel her disappointment towards him. He could feel her wrath towards him.

“Hand me your locket, Brian,” Mrs. Taylor then ordered.

Brian’s eyes automatically went straight to Roger, who immediately shakes his head and mouths, “No…”

“Brian!”

Then Brian felt two hands on the back of his neck, lifting his curls. Brian whipped his head in panic. He saw Mr. Edmund behind him with a serious yet sad look in his face.

 _Is_ _he_ _the_ _one_ _who_ _took_ _those_ _photos?_

“I-I’ll give it to the Madame!” Brian covers the back of his neck, almost shouting as he refused. “Just please don’t touch me!”

With his badly shaking fingers, Brian unlock the locket’s clasp. Legs feeling like they’re made of gelatin, he took a couple of steps forward, and places it on Mrs. Taylor’s table.

“Open it.”

“Madame, please… I’m very sorry…”

“Open the locket, Brian.”

“Mother, please…” Roger’s voice is breaking behind him.

Knowing that the situation is not going to get better if they will continue to refuse her, Brian opened the locket, and places it again in-front of her. The Madame made a sharp inhale. Her eyes fixated on Roger’s photo inside it.

“So it’s true…”

It happened so fast. Along with Mrs. Taylor’s hand on his face, the locket badly hitting Brian’s right cheekbone and the chain hitting him sharply in the eye that Brian saw a stripe of white. Staggering backwards, Roger was quick enough to come into his rescue and caught him, before Brian’s back collides with the coffee table.

“MUM!”

“Madame!” frantically, Mr. Edmund yelled. “Stop! Please!”

Roger guides him back down on the seat. “Oh God! Are you okay? Are you okay?”

Brian’s mind went numb in a split second because of the stinging pain. Although, he is half-aware that Roger’s checking his face and his eye with his cold-as-ice hands. “Oh! Thank goodness, it’s not bleeding! Thank goodness!”

Then an ear-splitting crash echoes across the room. Then another. Followed by another.

Shaking, Roger safely tucks him in around his arms. At the same time, they could hear Mr. Edmund begging her to stop, and begging her to calm down. “M-Madame, stop please! You might hurt yourself!”

“Let’s get out of here, Brian!” clearly frightened, Roger whispered to him. “Let’s go!”

Roger practically grabs him and heads towards the adjoining door. Frantically twisting the doorknob to open, they realized that it was locked. “Shit!”

“Don’t think that you can quickly escape. We’re still not done!” face stricken with tears, Mrs. Taylor’s eyes narrowed at them more. “Get back here!”

“No!” raging, Roger yelled back. “Why should we? When you could’ve blinded Brian just now!”

“How dare you both do something immoral behind my back?! You both know that I would never —ever— approve of this relationship!”

 _Immoral_ … The word felt as if Brian was kicked in his gut. Although, despite her actions and her words, there’s a part of Brian that understands Mrs. Taylor. He knows that she felt betrayed by them. “Madame, we didn’t force this thing to happen… and we didn’t want you to feel this way about us, either.”

“I AM DISGUSTED!” Mrs. Taylor seethed. “I still couldn’t believe that my suspicions are correct!”

A pained squeak escaped Roger’s mouth. His voice is shaky yet low when he starts speaking, “Mum… I’m sorry. I’m also sorry as I thought that you’ll understand… I’m sorry for I was wrong.”  
He paused for a second, then adds, “I’m sorry as I thought that you’ll have _compassion_ to us, as you’ve been in the same situation before with Dad… I’m sorry as you’re the same as your _father_ …”

Mrs. Taylor looks taken-aback with her son’s words. It almost looks like as if Roger slapped her in the face. Meanwhile, Mr. Edmund was left aghast; Brian just noticed he was holding Mrs. Taylor by the wrists.

“Mother, I thought that you’ll be happy for me. For us. I’ve never been this happy again since I fell in love with Brian,” seizing the moment, Roger is on a roll. “Brian saved my life —literally and metaphorically. Four months ago, I was nothing but a fucking shit-show. I was a maggot. Did you seriously think that Rehabilitation shit fixed me up? NO! I was no different than an empty shell!”

The hand that’s holding Brian’s wrist starts to shake violently and clammy.

“Mother, it pains us so much to see your reaction like this,” silent tears starts streaming down his face as Roger breathes out. “Right now I don’t even feel that you love me…and worst, that you’re ashamed of me... and that was the _last_ feeling that I was hoping that I’ll get from you…”

“Roger, I love you!” Mrs. Taylor’s face all scrunched up as she sobs. “I love you very much! And I—”

“NO! You don’t! You’re just saying that!” Roger disagreed. “You do not love me!”

“I do!” Mrs. Taylor insisted. “I love you _and_ Brian! That’s why I want to protect you! The both of you! That’s why we have to put a stop on this _sin_! What you’re both doing is _illegal_ by the law. Roger, you’re only 20. You could get arrested!”

“You didn’t even know that Brian and I were together until these fucking pictures happened!” Roger reasoned out. “I’ll only get arrested if someone will tell-out on me, or if we get caught!”

Brian sensed that the ‘telling-out’ part was directed towards his mother’s assistant.

Mrs. Taylor’s face fell and clutches her chest. “A-Are you saying that you’re not going to end this?”

Roger turned to Brian, removed his hand off his wrist, and laced their fingers together. “No.”

“Roger, Brian...you’re both too young to think that this is love,” Mrs. Taylor gasped. “It is not!”

The words spill out Brian’s mouth before he could even think about it. “But I do love him, Madame. I do love Roger so much— that sometimes it also scares me. And I’ve never wanted to hurt nor disappoint you, because in my eyes, you’re almost like a second mother to me. Seeing you like this feels like I’m seeing my own mother cry. And it breaks my heart so much. I’m so sorry. We didn’t plan any of this to happen…”

“I love Brian,” Roger said firmly. “I know, because this is my own heart. This is my own feelings.”

Mrs. Taylor was quiet for a moment, her eyes stubbornly fixed on the table. She breaks the silence by saying, “Edmund, have Pierre prepare the car. We’re sending Brian home tonight.”

Brian felt as if he’s falling off from a cliff when he heard those words. Roger immediately clutches on his hand, too tight, that it hurts. “No! You can’t do that!”

Mr. Edmund slowly let go of her and nods. “Yes, Madame.”

“Roger…” the sting on his face and the pain on his hand made Brian wince.

“Fine! You want to separate me and Brian, then expect to see me dead—first thing tomorrow morning!”

Shocked, all eyes on the blond heir now. Mrs. Taylor looks like she’s going to faint.

“Roger, don’t say that please…” goosebumps crawls all over him, Brian saw the intensity on his boyfriend’s now cold, icy-blue eyes. Roger is dead serious. Brian could feel his heart ready to pop-out from his chest.

“I will damn make sure that you won’t have a fucking chance on reviving me this time!” it was so horrifying how Roger is almost saying it like a _promise_ and a _threat_. “I will fucking make sure that I will never wake up, after you take Brian away for me! And, Mother... I hope that after kicking out the only tutor that she grew to love and respect, _Clare_ will still forgive you and love you, the way she does now.”

The stare down between Mrs. Taylor and Roger felt like an eternity. Brian thought he stopped breathing in between. Chewing on her lower lip, the Madame walks towards them. Mr. Edmund didn’t dare to hold her back this time.

Her red-rimmed eyes darted between him and Roger. In just a blink, Brian’s ears were ringing with the sound of her hand, slapping Roger’s cheek this time. His boyfriend was too stunned to react.

“Have it your way then,” with an equally cold expression, Mrs. Taylor said frostily.

Without another word, the mansion’s mistress left the room with the door slamming.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Je m’en fiche = I don’t care / I don’t give a damn
> 
> *Ne t’inquiètes pas = Don’t worry
> 
> *mon fils = my son
> 
> *mon enfant = my child
> 
> *À demain matin = see you tomorrow 
> 
> *Je t'aime = I love you
> 
> *Je t’aime plus = I love you more
> 
> *Mon ange = my angel
> 
> *Je n'arrive pas à y croire = I can’t believe this 
> 
>  
> 
> -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
> 
>  **Belated Happy Valentines Day, darlings ~!! (๑♡3♡๑) Sending you all of my uwus**
> 
> As I’m writing this, I may or may not be high on sugar, after devouring a box of chocolate all by myself — that’s the pros of having your birthdate on Valentines Day! Yessss!!! (~￣³￣)~ 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you’re all doing well and having a fantastic day! Also are y’all excited to watch Queen + AL on live TV at the Oscars? I AM! What a time to be alive!（ｉДｉ)
> 
> I hope that y’all like the early update! I was suppose to post this last Thursday night, but then I got so drunk at my party — *ehem* and so I decided to add some parts... *mumble* *mumble* so yeah! Lmfao!
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN FOR YOUR CONTINOUS SUPPORT! I’ll drink to that number of Kudos tonight! I am such a thirsty whore for your comments, so please... don’t be a silent reader, and please gimme sum love! sksks!  
> But seriously, THANK YOU ALL! (＾▽＾)
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ===
> 
> “He’s a dentist.”
> 
> “I was never a dentist.”
> 
> “He’s a dentist.”


	13. Chapter 13 (UPDATED)

   
         
             **“O** h!” Brian moaned in relief as his whole body sinks into the tub’s warm water, Saturday evening. The fever that he’s been nursing for a day and a half was completely gone this afternoon, but his body still feels quite sore. He still feels a little exhausted, which is ironic, because he hasn’t done anything since Friday but to sleep, eat, and force himself to go to the loo.

‘ _Perhaps it’s those “activities” that went prior_ … _’_ his brain offered.

Wanting some tranquility he’s been longing for, Brian closes his eyes. Unfortunately, Mrs. Taylor’s voice rang inside his head again for the nth time.

_‘I AM DISGUSTED!’_

_‘IMMORAL!’_

Her words still bites Brian’s heart as if he’s hearing it again for the first time.

The same night, after their nightmare-like confrontation, the Queen took the little Princess away, leaving the tutor and his beloved Prince left behind the castle.

It was almost a blur when Roger quickly guides Brian back to his bedroom after the Madame left them inside her office with Mr. Edmund. The blond heir phoned Mr. Tony using the phone in his room and ordered the butler to prepare two ice packs for them. Roger checked his right eye again, and promised that he’ll try his best to bring him to the doctor tomorrow morning. Brian assured him that it was fine and it’s no longer needed. The discomfort is finally gone, after some couple of minutes passed. He then asked Roger if his cheek still hurts; his boyfriend said that it still stings a little bit.

“She had never hit me before,” sitting next to Brian on his bedroom’s couch, his boyfriend confessed. His eyes staring at some off distant. “I’m shocked…”

 _‘And it’s because of me…’_ Brian couldn’t help himself but to feel guilty. “Roger, I’m sorry…”

“ _Why_ are you apologizing, silly?” Roger softly nudges him on the side. “It’s not your fault that I got mouthy. Besides…she hit you too.”

The image of Mrs. Taylor glaring at him, swarm before Brian’s eyes. “She was so mad…”

“But that doesn’t justify what she did to you,” Roger pointed out angrily. “I mean, I’m _her_ child. And you’re not. Your parents have never laid a finger on you, am I right?”

Brian nods meekly. Roger’s correct; Mr. and Mrs. May have never used that type of method to discipline him.

“Oh God… I’m very sorry, Brian…”

Mutely shaking his head, Brian rested his back against the seat. His one hand on the ice pack, pressed on his right cheek while the other on Roger’s forearm. Roger scoots closer to him and rests his left cheek on Brian’s chest, while he holds his own ice pack. They stayed on that position until the ice melted.

Around eight in the evening (Brian thought it was already mid-night. Time was particularly slow and dragging that night, it seems), Mr. Tony knocked on the door again, and told them that the dinner’s already served. Roger ordered to have their dinner to be served inside his bedroom instead. Thankfully, the butler did not ask any question. Brian hopes that the butler —or any of the mansion’s other helpers— are not aware about his and Roger’s relationship yet.

The sadness in Roger’s eyes became more visible after having their dinner in silence. He would’ve eaten more; the dinner’s Japanese —his favorite— if only the incident a while ago did not happened. But he only ate little. So did Brian. It was such an embarrassment to waste the the food that Chef Solomon prepared for them.

“Please stay here,” clinging to him, Roger begs. “I don’t want to be alone. Don’t leave me, Brian. Please!”

_‘You want to separate me and Brian, then expect to see me dead—first thing tomorrow morning!’_

A shiver licks down Brian’s spine as he remembered what Roger threatened his mother with. Those words _effectively_ forced Mrs. Taylor to keep Brian inside the mansion. But they sounded so _wrong_ — even to Brian. He truly loves Roger. _Very much_. But Brian never wanted him to be codependent nor to have a toxic codependent relationship with Roger. He’ll to talk to Roger about this once the tension simmered down.

After dinner, they went to Brian’s bedroom and took some of his clothes. They came back to Roger’s room and had a warm bath together. Nobody slept that night. Although, they had their arms wrapped around each other. Brian could feel that Roger was too afraid to let him go.

The morning after the storm, Brian slip out the room when Roger finally fell asleep. The mansion was very quiet for a Thursday, even though it’s already 9 AM.

“Oh…” sitting alone in the huge dining area, Mr. Edmund raised his gaze from the newspaper he’s reading. “Hello there, Brian…”

“H-Hello, sir,” Brian couldn’t meet his eyes, contemplating if he’ll leave now.

“Is Roger already awake?”

“N-No, sir…” Brian wonders why the assistant now have a calm aura. Especially, after _what_ went down, 16 hours ago. Brian’s expecting him to be as mad and still madly disappointed as the mistress.

“How’s your right eye?” almost nonchalantly, Mr. Edmund takes a sip of his coffee.

“It’s fine, sir,” Brian uncomfortably answered. Seizing the moment that he’s alone with Mrs. Taylor’s assistant, Brian gathered all of his remaining courage to ask, “Is it possible to speak to—?”

But Mr. Edmund cut him off with, “We still need to have it checked today. Get dressed after breakfast, alright?”

“But, sir…” brows furrowing, Brian shakes his head. “I would rather speak to the Madame than have my eye checked.”

The assistant folded his newspaper and sighed deeply. “I’m afraid it’s not possible, Brian. Mrs. Taylor left last night. She took Clare with her.”

Brian’s lips parted. So Mrs. Taylor was really mad at them. She’s so mad at them, that she’s repulsed with just the sight of him and Roger, to the extent that she has to leave the manor.

 _‘I AM DISGUSTED!’_  
  
Brian felt pathetic as he couldn’t stop the guilty tears from making an early appearance.

“I-I’m sorry…” Brian wipes his tears with his thenar. “I’ll be back in my room.”

Awkward silence.

“Brian, young man…” stopping him, Mr. Edmund pushed back his chair and stood up. “I hope you —and Roger— can understand the Madame’s reaction, and her current feelings towards you two. You should know that after learning what’s going on between you and her son, it is not an easy thing for her to quickly accept.”

“We _do_ understand her…” Brian sniffed, hoping that no maids will walk in and sees him in that embarrassing state. “We _know_ that she won’t accept us easily…”

Mr. Edmund made a beeline towards him. He licked his lips before saying in a low voice, “Although, personally, I _don’t_ agree with her actions. She should’ve _not_ hit you nor Roger…I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to stop her. My hands were also tied that time.”

Surprised, Brian looks at the young assistant. _Why is he saying this?_

“For now let’s just give her some time to clear her head,” Mr. Edmund sighed again and places his hands on his hips. “And hope that her anger’s gone once she’s back.”

“What will happen to me then, sir?” Brian asked, clueless on what decision Mrs. Taylor have about the remaining weeks of his tutoring contract. “I don’t want to end my stay here like this.”

“I understand. Unfortunately, I cannot answer your question for now, Brian,” Mr. Edmund answered with a sad look. “The Madame only told me to stay here, so I can watch the two of you. She didn’t even tell me when she’ll be back.”

_What…?_

“I… I understand…”

Exhaling loudly, Mr. Edmund pats on his shoulder. “Grab a quick breakfast. We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”

 

         His eye result came out positive. Though, the Optometrist (who also happened to be Roger’s Optometrist) suggested that Brian take some eye-drops, just in case he’ll feel discomfort with his sclera again.

After coming back to the mansion, he found a really worried-looking Roger, waiting in the living room. Stubbing the lit cigarette between his fingers on the ash tray, the irritation in his voice was clear when he asks, “Where have you been?”

“I took him to your Optometrist’s, Roger,” Mr. Edmund answered instead. “It was just for a quick—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Roger asked angrily. “I was worried sick!”

“Young master, I told you that they’ll be back right away,” said Mr. Tony.

“I am not talking to neither of you!” Roger gave both older gentlemen a side-eyed glare.

Brian was afraid that Roger might end-up making a scene. Immediately, he wraps his arm around Roger’s shoulders and leads him to the staircase, but his boyfriend tried to shake him off and protests. 

“I asked you a question, Brian!”

Pressing his lips together in a straight line, annoyed with Roger’s stubbornness, Brian practically grabbed him and drags him upstairs like a toddler having tantrums.

“Why are you acting like this?” after the door shut, Brian forcefully made Roger sit on the bed.

“I won’t be acting like this if _you_ had only told me where you were going, instead of disappearing like that!”

“Roger, you just fell asleep when I left,” Brian tried to be as calm as possible. “I thought that it’s best not to wake you up because your body and your mind needs some rest.”

“No! It’s very simple to just quickly wake me up and tell me where you’re going, Brian,” Roger argued. “Do you have any idea how _worried_ I was when I woke up and found that you weren’t there? I thought Mum dragged you out of the house while I was asleep!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that she’ll do that…” Brian thinks that Roger’s restless mind is starting to create imaginary scenarios in his head. “And besides…she left the house last night. She also took Clare with her.”

Lines form on Roger’s forehead. “You’re lying…”

“I am not, Roger. And why would I do that?”

Roger’s became teary-eyed. Then his eyes zigzagged, as if scanning the floor of Brian’s bedroom. His lower lip is trembling when he says, “Because you don’t love me anymore…”

Brian knew he heard what his boyfriend said just now, but he still ended up asking, “What?”

“Y-You don’t love me anymore, don’t you?” beads of tears starts rolling down Roger’s cheeks. “After last night, you realized that I’m not worth it. I’m not worth the fight. Y-You must be thinking right now how it must’ve been a _huge_ mistake to have a relationship with an unsteady twat like me! You… you might have talked to Mr. Edmund on how to end—”

Brian didn’t let Roger finish his nonsense blabbering. He handcuffed Roger’s wrists with his hands, “Roger! Roger! I want you to look at me and shut your mouth.”

“You don’t love me anymore, Brian…”

“Roger, look at me and stop talking!”

But his boyfriend is just really stubborn. Impatiently, Brian quickly leaned in and shut him up with a kiss. Roger’s mouth strongly tasted like nicotine and vodka. For the love of — _t_ _hat_ explains his acting out!  
After releasing him, Roger’s head lolled towards Brian’s shoulder. Probably he got dizzy after lacking of oxygen.

“I am in love with you, Roger,” firmly, Brian fiercely reminded him as he catches his own breath. “I am in love with you. I am totally in love with you.”

A whimper escaped Roger’s throat as a response.

“I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else right now, except for you,” Brian let go of his wrists and hugged him instead. “I want to be with you, Roger.”

“I was so afraid when I woke up and you weren’t there… I thought that you’ve decided to leave me…”

“Shhhh…no, sweetheart. I won’t do that…never!” Brian assures him while he caresses his hair. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel worried. I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry again.”

Roger changed the question this time, “Why did you went to the hospital with Mr. Edmund? I offered you the _same thing_ last night, but you refused and you said you’re fine. _Why_?”

_Shit._

“It was your mother’s orders,” Brian lied. He doesn’t completely trust the mistress’ assistant, but there’s a part of him that urges him to accept Mr. Edmund’s offer. Also, there’s a tiny voice in his head that told him to trust the assistant that moment.

Brian was surprised when Roger pushed him back. “What? So because it was _Mum’s_ offer you quickly accepted it? Did you not even think that she might have instructed him to drive you back to Feltham instead, Brian?”

“Roger, you’re psyching yourself up. Stop it…”

“I am _not_ fucking psyching myself, Brian!” fuming, Roger cried. “Why are you trusting them so much despite what she had done to us last night?”

“I do not wholeheartedly trust them, Roger,” gently cupping his face, Brian starts explaining. “Although, we cannot also push them away because they could also protect us. The situation won’t be better if we’ll fight back.”

“You’re not making sense, Brian! Are you saying that we should break up?”

“No, Roger!” hastily, Brian takes his hands again. “That’s the last thing I would want to happen.”

“Then what is it?” agitated, Roger asked. “You want me to apologize to my mother after what she had done to me? To us? Never!”

“Yes! We should apologize to her, love!” Brian finally let the words out. “And we cannot anger her anymore, Roger. If you want us to be in a peaceful relationship —whether we like it or not— we need to accept the fact that we’ll need to have her acceptance towards us.”

“How?” Roger looks angrier. “Did you not hear what she said last night? She said that she’ll never approve of our relationship—ever!”

“I know! _I know!_ But what I’m saying is if we prove to her that our relationship means no harm, she might gradually starts accepting us—”

“If you want to apologize to her, go fucking ahead! But don’t blame me if she hurts you, or threatens to kick you out this house again, because you’re so fucking stubborn!”

“Roger, this is not the right way to win your mother’s trust again,” Brian’s felt his shoulders dropped. “I love you. And I want to stay with you. But we cannot continue having a battle with her. You do know that aside from her being _your_ _mother_ , she’s also _my_ _employer_ that I love and respect.”

Sending him dagger looks, the disappointment is clear on Roger’s tone, “And I thought you’re my ally in this fight…”

At this point, Brian knew that Roger is far too angry right now to understand his point, and what he’s trying to say. He’s also aware that he’s quite close from losing _his_ temper. So he let go of Roger, and turned his back against him. Shutting his eyes while taking deep breaths, Brian mutely sauntered towards the veranda. Desperately trying to clear his head, Brian inhaled the fresh, cold air.

He can’t lose his cool, or else, he and Roger will clash. He can’t lose his cool. He can’t.

The young tutor counted from 1-100. After that, he sat on one of the metal chairs. Once he finally made sure that he had already calmed down, Brian walks in his bedroom again.

Brian’s heart sank a little when he found that Roger was gone. Taking another deep breath, Brian sat down on the floor. This is the very first heated argument that he and Roger had. Brian could only wish that it’s a small, petty fight. Something that could be easily resolved. Running his hands against his face, Brian felt the tears is about to make an appearance again.

_Why does it have to be like this?_

Originally, they’ve come up with a plan to keep their relationship a secret until Roger graduated College. They both know that there’s a chance that their families will not accept their relationship; but they’re holding on to the fact that they would understand their love for each other at the very least, if Brian and Roger are to _properly explain_ it to them, in the right time and mature way. Although, now, it seems it is all but impossible.

Now, Brian is gnawing again on the idea of what _his_ parents reaction would be like? Surely they weren’t religious, but they were very ‘moralistic’ and straight. He couldn’t even imagine what would be the look in their faces. Would they yell at him? Or worst, would they also hit him like what Mrs. Taylor did to them?

His train of thoughts was interrupted when Brian heard a sound of someone’s hiccuping inside his wardrobe.

“Oh my Lord! Roger!” Brian almost immediately drops on his knees when he saw Roger, curled up in the corner of his wardrobe, buried underneath some of Brian’s clothes, face stricken with tears.

_He was there the whole time?_

“Brian, don’t leave me…”

“Come here, love,” Brian slightly spreads his arms.  
  
Roger crawled towards him. Unfortunately, a hanger fell off from the rack and hits him square on the top of his head. “Ow!”

“Oh! You alright, mate?”

“That fucking hurts!” Roger cry-tittered as Brian scoops him. Brian unintentionally let out a breathless, odd, short laugh as he wipes his boyfriend’s tears and gently massages the top of his blond head.

Back on the bed again, Brian pulled him into a warm embrace. The tensed aura is lesser now than a while ago. He made another decision to wait for Roger to completely calm first, before they start with their proper conversation again.

After having their lunch at the veranda (Roger refused to eat with Mr. Edmund), he took Roger out on the garden to play with Lysander and Bailey. It was such a therapeutic feeling to roll around the grass, get licked in the face, and receive puppy kisses. It made them forget about the reality in front of them, even just for a little while.

“I heard about what happened to the gnomes last night,” sipping his afternoon coffee, Mr. Bennet said. “No wonder why the Madame’s apoplectic.”

Standing next to older gentleman, Brian decides to rest a bit. They’re now watching Roger, as he continuously play with the puppies.

“Did the two of you naughty boys got a _horrendous_ lecture, that it made you lose both of your appetite?” a smiling Chef Solomon appeared behind them, he hands Brian a cup of coffee as well. “Or did you not just like the food that I prepared?”

“The first one, Chef,” Brian sends him an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry…”

The Chef then asked Mr. Bennet if it were the 16-year-old Japanese gnomes that Roger accidentally destroyed; the gardener sadly confirmed they were.

“Although, what I don’t _understand_ , Brian, why you also got lectured, when it was only Roger who was driving alone yesterday?”

Brian was about to open his mouth to tell a lie, when Roger run towards them. The gardener’s question was left unanswered.

       
  
            Later that day, they situated themselves inside the main library’s chaise lounge, Roger’s head pillowed on his lap. One hand on the phone, while the other softly scratching Roger’s scalp. Meanwhile, Roger’s tracing his and Brian’s full name on Brian’s right thigh.

“So what are your plans now?” Freddie’s voice was grave on the other line.

Placing the reciever between his cheek and shoulder, Brian sighed and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Formally apologize to Mrs. Taylor once she’s back.”

“And Roger…?”

Brian let out another exhale. Instead of answering their friend’s question, he asks Freddie, “Do you think my parents already know?”

He felt Roger stiffens with his words.

Freddie hums, thinking deeply, “I don’t think so. And if they do, they should’ve _called_ you by now, right?”

“Right…” Brian gnawed on the insides of his cheek. “I’m afraid that they might disown me…”

“Bri…” barely a whisper, that’s all Freddie could manage. At least, he’s not saying overly optimistic shit. And Brian appreciates that. Instead, Freddie told him, “I congratulate you both for holding on each other in this tough time. I trust you; you’re both smart. I believe your love with each other is real. The parents might not understand it right away, but all things in life is just temporary.”

‘ _All things in life is just temporary…’_

Dinner that night was awkward and almost silent. Brian pulled a Herculean force for Roger to eat with him at the dining area because Mr. Edmund forbade them to eat in the veranda nor in their rooms that night. In the end, Brian successfully managed to have his boyfriend supper with them, but Roger did not answer any of the assistant’s close-ended questions. So Mr. Edmund turned to Brian instead about his eye, and if he is following the Optometrist’s orders.

After they got ready for bedtime, Roger was suspiciously quiet and Brian starts wonder —and worry— what’s going through his boyfriend’s head right now. So, Brian pulled him closer so Roger could cuddle up to him. Then he asks, “Do you want to tell me something, Roger?”

Looking up to Brian with a small smile, his boyfriend mutely shake his head.

Then it started with a gentle kiss on Brian’s cheek…

And then it trailed to his neck…

The next thing Brian knew, his naked chest and face are pressed against the sheets. His ass up in the air, and arms splayed, too tired, to support the weight of his upper body. The bed squeaking loudly beneath them.

“Rog— _too rough!_ ” Brian winced, not the first time he voiced out. Tonight’s the second time that Roger’s topping him. He prepared Brian, alright, but his thrusts are just too harsh. As if it’s his form of punishment for forcing him to supper with his mother’s assistant and also their argument this morning.

Brian felt as if he’s being split open from the waist down. _Doesn’t Roger even know how thick he is inside him?_

“Love… _Roger…?”_

Pleasure is also a feeling at the moment, but the sting of pain is greater. Roger’s hold on his hips is getting tighter too, nails digging on Brian’s skin.

“Roger… oh! _Ow_ —!” Brian hisses.

Brian wonders if Roger’s _genuinely_ getting pleasure from all of this, with his almost high-pitched moans and labored breathing. When he tried to slightly turn his head to see Roger, his boyfriend practically shove his face back on the pillows. After that, he felt a painfully hard smack on his asscheek, forcing Brian to tighten, making them both groan darkly.

“Fuck!” Brian whimpered.

After a couple of thrusts, Roger slip-out of him. Brian could feel Roger jerking himself off behind him. Moments later, Brian felt the warm and sticky load, sprayed on his ass. In another time, Brian would’ve find it sexy; right now, he’d be lying if he’s not going to admit that the move made him feel a little degraded.

After Roger has recovered, Brian then felt some light kisses on his spine that moves up to both his shoulders. Almost comforting. Almost like the way of an apology.

Now that Roger has finished, Brian decided to take care of himself as well. He just want to end this!

But as he was just discreetly reaching out for his cock, Roger takes a hold of his forearm, angrily. “No, Brian! Don’t even dare!”

“But, Rog… I just want to finish this now,” protesting, Brian then felt Roger forcing him to flip over on his back. “Please…”

“No!” looming over Brian, Roger tilts his chin up and shut him up with a kiss.

Surprisingly, Roger’s kiss isn’t as harsh as his previous actions. Breaking the kiss, he then proceeds on kissing Brian’s chest, down to his stomach, before giving him the head. Roger’s only been deliciously sucking him for a couple of minutes when Brian let go, cutting the torture short. But it wasn’t his intention to make Roger gag and watch him, almost panicking, as the blonde heir grabs his discarded nightshirt on the floor and spit there Brian’s load mixed with his saliva. Brian’s vision was hazy when Roger glared at him and slapped his right thigh as he coughs on the shirt. Roger even made a disapproving click of his tongue.

_Fucking bastard…_

Not caring about Roger for now, desperately trying to keep up with his ragged and uneven breathing, Brian was so sure that he’s going to pass-out. He’s too spent to even do the tiniest movement.

Roger crawled next to him, using Brian’s sore arm as his pillow. Brian wants to complain, but he kept his eyes closed and didn’t say anything. Although, he could strongly sense that Roger’s staring at his face right now.

_What do you want now…?_

A few moments later, the bed slightly moved when he felt that Roger props himself up with an elbow. Dipping down, he plants a gentle kiss on Brian’s forehead, cheeks, close lids, and chin.

“Does that reminds of you of something, _mon amour?_ ” Roger’s lips now brushing against his as he speaks. “Does that reminds you of _that_ wonderful night…?”

Brian’s head is still a bit fogged up, but he’s aware that Roger is pertaining to the night when they first kissed. The same night when Brian confessed his love for him. His eyes fluttered open and almost lazily looks up to Roger. He was surprised to see Roger’s eyes brimming with tears. As if embarrassed, Roger looks away and wipes it off with the sheet beneath them.

“I’m sorry, Brian…”

“Sweetheart…” Brian manage to croak.

Letting out a deep sigh, Roger starts biting his nails. A bad habit that Roger rediscovered overnight. Brian takes his other hand and starts grazing Roger’s knuckles with his thumb. Meanwhile, Roger is staring off some distant space.

After a long period of silence, Roger asks, “D-Do you mind if I smoke here?”

Brian’s brows furrowed; it’s odd that Roger is asking for permission to have a cigarette. Normally, Brian would tell him ‘No smoking!’ inside his bedroom, and then kick Roger out to the veranda. But if that’s the thing that would calm Roger down, he’ll let it slide for tonight. “Sure…”

Smiling, Roger leaps off the bed and gets something under it.

“What are you doing down there?” Brian only lifts his head to check what on earth his boyfriend is doing.

“Getting my smoke…” Roger shows him a wooden music box, making Brian frown in confusion. It’s his first time seeing it.

Then he rejoins Brian again on the bed. A mysterious smile forming on Roger’s lips, after he dips his tongue on Brian’s navel. “Oh—”

“ _Tu es a moi_ …” Roger declared, before softly kissing the column of Brian’s throat. “You’re all mine…”

Brian felt butterflies in his stomach upon hearing Roger’s magical words. He slightly raises his hand to fondly caress Roger’s jaw. Of course, Brian’s growing annoyance quickly dissipated. But when Roger opened the said item in his hands, Brian’s eyes grew wide and automatically sits-up.

It’s not a music box. It’s a fucking cannabis stash box!

Raising a brow, Roger turns to him with a sly smile. “You wanna join me, Professor May?”

“Roger, I agreed of you smoking— but not with these!” shaking his head, Brian points out the perfectly rolled joints inside the stash.

“Why? I just wanna get high for a bit and forget this shit around us, just for tonight,” Roger takes the lighter from the stash and place the joint in-between his lips. “I’m so getting tired of crying and moping. Give me a break…”

“But—” stopping himself from scolding Roger as he does not want to argue anymore, Brian rubs his face with his hands as Roger starts smoking. Laying back down, Brian’s eyes just followed every drag Roger takes.

_Do whatever you want, wanker!_

It’s almost 11 in the evening. The intro of _‘I can see for miles’_ floats inside the room. Brian’s body wants to sleep, but his brain is a different story.

“Oh…” softly exhaling as his eyes are now half-lidded, Roger’s face starts to relax. “Oh… yes…”

Minutes later, Roger’s demeanor completely changed. Intertwining their hands together, a genuine, pleased smile curls up on Roger’s lips. Perhaps, Brian is still lightheaded after their rough sex, that he’s starting to be quite _jealous_ of Roger’s calmness. Also, just looking at Roger’s gorgeous face and his still very naked body, Brian couldn’t stop himself for being oddly turned-on again, despite the feeling of exhaustion.

“Oh…wait…I’m…” as if suddenly remembering something, Roger unclasped their hands together. Brian suppressed the displeasured noise at the back of his throat. Brian watches his boyfriend as he walks toward his wardrobe. Roger’s smooth, baby-pink ass on full-display, slightly crouching down and taking something inside.  

Safely keeping the joint between his lips, Roger puts on Brian’s pyjama top that’s too big for him. Roger rolled the sleeves, yet keep it unbuttoned. After that, he gave one sleeve, a long sniff before flashing Brian a lazy yet satisfied grin. “I _looove_ it. It smells just like you.”

Then Roger proceeds on looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his reflection as he wears a piece of Brian’s clothes. Brian’s tired, but couldn’t take his eyes off him. Fascinated by his boyfriend.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Roger flirty winks at him, taking another drag. “How’s your _view_ from there, sir?”

_Ahh… this is the ‘normal’ Roger that I know…_

Brian’s eyes traveled from Roger’s disheveled shaggy gold tresses, the oversized pyjama top, down to his barefoot. Cocking a brow, he made a second-look at his boyfriend’s half-hard member. Roger smiles at him darkly. Then, he slowly walks toward by the footing of the bed, not breaking the eye-contact, as he continuously takes another pull off the joint. Drinking the sight of Brian, as he still lies in his nakedness on the bed.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Bri…” almost whispering, there’s a hint of adoration behind the smile on Roger’s face.

Perhaps, Brian is now a bit desperate for some peace of mind. So desperate, that he wants to take the joint from Roger’s hand, and smoke it himself, even though he had never smoked before.

Brian badly wants to be as tranquil and collected as Roger is right now. And he wants _Roger_ right now. Especially now that his boyfriend looks sinfully ravishing.

“Why are you looking at me as if you’re going to eat me alive, Brian?” Roger continuously teases with a purr, crawling on the other side of the bed.

Propping up a pillow against the headboard, Brian says, “Couldn’t help myself, when you look devilishly delectable like this, Roger.”

The blond heir lets out a gasp, then smiles at him all-knowingly. Brian smiled back as his boyfriend sits on his lap, to straddle him. Their dicks pressing on each other. Lowering his eyes to look at the locket around Brian’s neck, Roger takes another slow drag before he offers the joint to him. His blue gaze stayed there for a while.

Fingers visibly shaking, Brian takes the cannabis from Roger, pulling his attention back to him. Roger gives him an inquisitive look while Brian just smiled and nods.

“Relax your mind. Inhale properly,” smoothing his chest, Roger gently instructed him. “Don’t worry. It’s not _that_ strong. And I’ll be here if you feel weird. Oh and— drink water first.”

Following all of Roger’s instructions and thinks of his way of smoking, Brian takes the first courageous drag of his life. It took a lot of concentration not to embarrassingly cough.

Lips parting, Roger’s hungry eyes on him. “Fuck… you look so sexy, Brian!”

That compliment gave Brian some confidence to take another slow and successful drag, trying to be as alluring as possible. “Really…?” exhaling the smoke on Roger’s hand, Brian asked.

Taking the joint from him, Roger moans dreamily as Brian starts to softly mouths on his jawline. “Fuck! Brian… you looked so… _fuck!”_

At first, Brian didn’t feel anything. He was starting to feel some disappointment after a couple of puff, puff, pass game with Roger that they’ve already finished the first stick.

And then… the high hits him.

It was the feeling of euphoria afterwards. Oh! Everything feels light, happy, and relaxed. Brian feels lazy, but no longer tired.

He starts kissing Roger, messily, while chuckling uncontrollably. “My sweet, sweet angel face…”

Meanwhile, Roger’s obscenely frotting him like nobody’s business. The sensation is twice better than the normal feeling he gets, that Brian couldn’t stop himself from moaning too loud.

The sound of their lips smacking. Roger’s pretty moans and gasps against his skin. The sound of their slow and heavy breathing— and how _‘I can’t reach you’,_ is just too hilariously fitting for the high they’re both experiencing.

Overly sensitive with each touch, Brian could feel the hairs on his arms standing up, just from the graze of Roger’s fingertips against his skin. His brain almost short-circuits when Roger starts sucking him.

The smell of his pyjama top on Roger, mixing with Roger’s own signature smell, filling Brian’s nasal passages.

Even the colors in Brian’s eyes looks extra vibrant: the color of Roger’s hair, his eyes, pink lips, and the blue ceiling above them.

“ _Mon ange…”_ watching as Roger slathers his raw length with lube, Brian _felt_ his own eyes twinkles. Roger loudly cries in self-indulgence as he very slowly teases himself with the tip.

Once they’re connected as one, Brian thought that sober sex with Roger already feels like heaven—this one’s on a _NEW. FUCKING. LEVEL!_

Almost dropping the second roll of joint, Brian carefully reaches it from Roger’s fingers, then takes another drag before cupping the back of his boyfriend’s neck. Brian had seen this trick from some stoners kids whom he had seen smoked on the abandoned park near the public pool, where he did the part-time job as a lifeguard last year.

“Oohhh…someone knows…” holding on Brian’s shoulder, Roger’s smiling lips are just sliver away from his. “…knows what blowback is…”

Keeping Roger steady for a split minute, Brian exhales the smoke while he inhales it. He proudly watches as his boyfriend expertly holds it in, as Roger starts to ride him again. Every hit is deeper and hotter than the other. Mouth agape and eyes rolling at the back of his skull, Roger’s head thrown back savoring even the lightest touch of Brian’s fingers. Along with his moans and groans, Roger loudly and shamelessly singing Brian’s name; how he feels good inside him, and how much he loves him.

Now, it’s obvious that Roger is far more interested —and focused— with Brian, Brian’s dick, and his dick, than the half-finished joint. He isn’t the only one though, Brian is too. So with his long arm, Brian securely places it on the ashtray, on the top of the side-drawer.

“I love you… I love you so much, Roger,” reminding him, Brian gently nibbles on Roger’s lower lip.

Roger’s eyes fluttered close, smiling. “Say it again…?”

“I love you… I love you… I love you so much…” Brian whispers it to him in the most sensual way.

“Again… _oh!_ ”

“I love you, Roger Taylor… I love you to the moon and back…”

“I wanna hear it again…”

“I love you with all my heart…” Brian jerks his hips up to meet Roger’s.

“Brian!” Roger gasped against the side of Brian’s face. “ _Je suis a toi!_ ”

They’re so drunk and flying-high in love. Brian’s aware of it, and he loves it! Screw the “goody two-shoes Brian” for now!  
Now that everything’s pleasurably intense. Everything’s extreme. Sated is a total understatement to describe the feeling.

Of course, too much of everything is bad for everyone.

  
Friday afternoon, that’s when Brian starts to feel the fever. He thinks he strained a muscle or something. Lying in his bed with its newly fresh sheets, Brian was shivering in his pyjamas. 

“38 degrees…” frowning, Roger reads the thermometer for him. “Yeah… you have a slight fever, mate.” 

Brian sighed as he closes his eyes. He’s trying to ignore that tiny voice in his brain, lecturing him for being too careless. Though, Brian couldn’t give a shit at all. That was the most amazing sex he had so far in his whole entire life, so he doesn’t feel any amount of regret.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to rest and sleep,” Brian assures Roger.

“It’s my fault. I’m so sorry,” Roger sounded so guilty, taking Brian’s warm hand and pressing it on his cheek. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Brian opened his eyes and looks at him. “Don’t be sorry, love. You’ve calmed me down and given me the most amazing night of my entire life. I can’t wait to make love with you in that way again.”

Although still worried-looking, Roger smirks at him. “I’m such a bad influence on you sometimes, you know. I feel that I’ve corrupted you somehow.”

“I was your willing victim that night, Roger…”

Roger was about to lean in for a kiss, but Brian told him to kiss his forehead instead. “No, sweetheart. I don’t want you to get sick too.”

Surprisingly obedient, Roger did was he was told.

Only to surprise Brian by quickly palming him.

“Rog—” Brian involuntarily jerks his hips up.

Laughing, Roger gives him a peck on his neck. Before leaving his bedroom, Roger blows him a kiss. “Get well soon. I love you.”

The blush that adds on his fever’s heat, made Brian feel as if his face is burning up. “I love you too… brat…”

 

           Sunday morning comes, Brian’s thankful that he’s now completely well. He’s sitting on the carpeted floor, already dressed for the day, when he heard a knock on the door. “It’s open.” 

Brian half-expects Roger, but Clare walks in instead. She’s wearing her baby-pink ballet tutu dress, hair pulled into a neat bun. “Hi…?”

Mouth going dry, Brian practically leaps from the floor to pull Clare into an embrace. Melting in his arms, his beloved student immediately burst into tears. At the same time, Brian could feel his eyes welling up. “Oh! Clare…”

“I’ve missed you, Brian! I’ve missed you so much!”

“Oh! Princess! I’ve missed you, too! So very much!” breathing her sweet scent, Brian kissed Clare’s forehead. “We had no idea where the Madame took you!”

“We stayed at Uncle Arthur’s —John’s and Julie’s dad— manor for a while!” Clare explaining so fast. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much!”

A tear rolled down Brian’s cheek as he’s trying his best not to crumble in front of Clare. It was excruciating, because the sound of the young girl’s sobbing just continue to crush his still, freshly wounded heart. Brian felt so bad, knowing that he’s _one_ of the reasons of Clare’s sadness.

She doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m so sorry, Clare…” Brian could no longer stop the tears. “I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to hurt you like this…Please don’t hate me…”

Clare tightens her arms around him, body slightly shaking. The last time that Brian had seen her like this was the night when Roger drowned.

“I-I could never hate you, Brian,” Clare shakes her head. “It’s not your fault that you… you and Roger… fell in love…”

Brian chokes on her words. Clare pulled back to look at his face, cupping the same cheek that her mother slapped. “I love the both of you so much. I don’t think I could ever hate you, Brian. Especially, when I see that you made my brother happier than before.”

Kneeling in front of the Princess, the tutor presses on her small warm palm as if it’s his lifeline. The Princess wipes her tears with the back of her other hand. “I could never hate you, Brian. You’ve been so good to me and my family. And I’ll never forget that you’re the reason why my brother is still alive.”

“Thank you, Clare…” Brian think it’s a bit embarrassing that he’s loss for words. “Thank you…”

“Wait… why do you have a bruise on your cheekbone?” worriedly, Clare carefully swipe her thumb across his cheekbone. “It’s a bit purple, Brian.”

“Uh—um…” Brian wasn’t sure if he’ll tell Clare the truth or not, quickly he changes the topic, “I’m fine. Are you going to have a make-up ballet class today?”

“Yes,” Clare nodded, eyes still fixated on his bruise while Brian wipes his tears and swallow the lump on his throat. “I…also did some of my advanced homework and lessons. They’re on study my desk. You can check them later if you want.”

Smiling, Brian plants a kiss on her forehead again. “I want you to know that I am the proudest and luckiest tutor in the world to have such a beautiful and brilliant pupil like you.”

Even with tears, Clare grinned so wide that her dimples appeared.

Their private reunion was cut when Jane appeared by the doorway. Confusion quickly draws on her face, the moment she saw their tear stricken faces, “Oh— Miss Clare, there you are! We have to go...”

Clare took both of his hands, then she whispers, “L-Let’s catch up later. I haven’t talked to him yet…”

“Y-Yes. We’ll see you later…” Brian nods, avoiding looking at the maid’s direction.

“I love you, Brian.”

“Love you, too, Princess…”

Then seconds later, the door of his bedroom closed and Brian is now again all alone. Clare is back. And Brian couldn’t be more happier to see her again.

Although, fear replaced the happy feeling when he realized that there’s a big chance that the mansion’s mistress also came home with her.

        Instead of moping inside his bedroom and thinking of his “impending execution”, Brian plants himself on one of the main library’s study chairs. With the radio softly humming, he just finished checking Clare's English homework and now starting with her Maths.  

“Someone’s too busy for a Sunday,” the sudden sound of Roger’s voice made Brian jump from his seat.  

“My God! You scared me!” picking up the pen that accidentally slipped off his hand, Brian saw that his boyfriend is wearing his ‘The Who’ t-shirt, along with a pair of jeans and indoor slippers.

“Oh! Sorry, love,” Roger grins as he shrugs. When Brian visited Roger’s bedroom ten minutes ago, he was still fast asleep. Before their lips meet for a ‘Good morning’ kiss, Brian was assured with, “Don’t worry. The door is locked.”

“Good morning,” Brian affectionately pats the top of Roger’s head. His boyfriend just hums in response and hugs him tighter. “It’s odd to see you oversleeping again.”

“I’ve had a hard time sleeping last night,” Roger rubs his eye. “I was worried that you’re still feeling sick.”

“I’m okay now,” smiling, Brian told him. “No need to worry about me.”

“That’s good to know then.”

Brian sighed deeply, before breaking to Roger the news. He doesn’t have any choice. “Your mother’s back…I think…”

Roger blinked twice. At the same time, Brian regrets that it was him who have to tell him that.

“Oh… really?” that’s all Roger said.

“Clare came to my bedroom this morning. Then went to her ballet class after,” Brian explained, not letting go of Roger. “So I have a strong feeling she also came home with Clare last night.”

Roger also sighed deeply. “Well it’s her house, right? So it’s natural she’ll be back whenever she likes.”

Just as when Brian decided to take the opportunity to talk to Roger about his plans, they heard a knock on the door.

“Brian? Roger?” Mr. Edmund called.

Quickly cupping Roger’s face for a swift kiss, Brian marches towards the door and unlocks it.

“Breakfast’s ready.”

“Is Mum going to join us?” Roger questioned the older gentleman. The tension was already raised.

Mr. Edmund shook his head. “She hasn’t come home yet, Roger. She only sent Clare back because she had missed lots of her daily lessons. Also, your sister begged to come home.”

“Why?” Roger asked again. “And where is she now?”

“I’m afraid that I can’t answer that question, Roger,” Mr. Edmund slightly shakes his head.

“You’re her personal assistant! You _should_ know these things!” Roger had already raised his voice.

“Rog…” Brian warns his boyfriend gently.

“There are some few things that your Mother doesn’t tell me, Roger,” Mr. Edmund revealed. “Now if we can just please—”

“I’m not hungry!” Roger stormed off.

Brian sends the assistant an apologetic look, before following his boyfriend to his room. He watches as Roger takes angry strides, though he’s aware that the blond heir know’s that Brian’s following him as he left the door open for him.

“S-Sorry, Brian, I—” arms crossed, Roger’s face looks like as if he tasted something so sour. “You can have breakfast without me. I’m not hungry.”

Unfortunately for Roger, his stomach loudly grumbles, contradicting what he just said. Brian stops himself from chuckling and kisses his forehead. “I’ll take our breakfast here, alright?”

Roger’s anger just melt along with his body as they hugged once more. His expression softens, “Thank you, Brian.”

After having their morning meal, Brian stayed inside Roger’s bedroom for a bit. Together, they watched _Zokko!._ Though minutes later, Brian found Roger fast asleep, arm securely wrapped around his waist.

“Sleep well,” softly kissing the tip of Roger’s nose, Brian untangles himself off him.

Just as he’s raising his head, his hazel gaze landed on a framed photo on the top of Roger’s nightstand: it was the photo of them from the party, two months ago.

As expected, Mrs. Taylor _loved_ their photo so much, that she reproduced _multiple_ copies of them: a copy for Brian, Roger, and Clare. Mrs. Taylor has one in her office here and the main one. A copy was sent to Brian’s house for his parents. And the enlarged 20x30 framed version that was hanged elegantly by the foyer on the second floor. A couple of months ago, Brian was left slack-jawed after seeing the same photo printed on not one— but _three_ newspapers: Truro Daily, The West Briton, and the Cornish Guardian, amongst the other hand-picked photos from the same party.

Last week, the same newspapers printed an article about Roger’s 20th birthday party. _‘Partying with the Cornwall’s Prince’_ , said on the headline of Truro Daily. Brian cringed a little after reading it: the journalist exaggeratedly showered Roger and the party with praises and compliments. Brian made a face when he was referred as _‘Feltham’s Top Private Tutor’_. Meanwhile, Roger commented that it was tacky and the journalist was a total arse-licker.

Returning to the main library, Brian continued checking Clare’s works. Not more than half an hour later, Brian decides to take a quick tea break and look outside the window. In just a few more weeks, he won’t be seeing the same sweet sight daily. 

Brian’s head was still swimming when he thought that his eyes were just playing tricks on him, when he saw a familiar gray Renault Dauphine. It was following the Taylor’s Cadillac, driving towards the mansion’s driveway.

He saw how Mr. Edmund and Mr. Tony quickly welcomed the mansion’s mistress after she steps out of the car. The two gentlemen also greeted the two other people who just stepped out from the other car.

Brian felt that his heart fell in the very pit of his stomach. The car was the _May’s_ Renault Dauphine.

Mrs. Winifred Taylor had just brought Mr. Harold and Mrs. Ruth May to the mansion.

 

~☆♛☆♕☆♛☆♕☆~

 

    Roger was about to go back to slumber land again after taking a piss, when suddenly, the door of his bedroom bolted open. He watches as Brian practically launches himself directly to his bed. Brian didn’t even bother locking the door, which is unusual.

“Brian, what’s wrong?” Roger noticed how pale Brian’s face is. There’s also a scared look in his face. “Brian?" 

“Roger… Roger…” Brian quickly envelops him into a tight hug, and starts affectionately kissing his face. “I _love_ you…”

Roger quickly senses that something wrong is going on, seeing Brian acting like this. This is totally not his character. 

“You saw Mum, didn’t you?” Roger knew he guessed it right when Brian paused from kissing him.  

Brian clenched his jaw, “Yes… and she also took my parents here.”

Roger straightens himself. “Well shit...” 

Pressing their foreheads together, Brian looks like he’s about to burst into tears again. Roger knew that Brian must be very anxious right now. He could feel him shaking. Unlike Roger, Brian _strives_ to be the perfect son of his parents. Just the thought of disappointing them must’ve feels like death to him.   

_`I'm afraid that they might disown me…’_

Pulling him away from his train-of-thoughts, the arms around Roger tightens. And the kiss became more urgent and almost bruising. In another time, Roger would’ve seize this moment to push Brian on the edge; to make him want Roger more. He would’ve been mesmerized to see Brian almost rips his shirt apart, too desperate to touch. He would’ve been thrilled to feel Brian’s hands, manacling both of his wrists, and forcefully make him lie down on the bed. 

But… 

“W-Wait… Brian…stop,” stopping himself from moaning, Roger placed a hand on his boyfriend’s chest and clasped a hand over Brian’s mouth. 

When Brian finally looked at him in the eyes, all Roger could see was fear and confusion. 

Covering his face with both of his hands, Brian was appalled. “S-Sorry… I— don’t you _want_ to—?” 

_Want to what? Have sex…? Right now?_

“Do _you_ want to?” Roger questioned back.

Removing his hands off his face, Brian looks at him, before blinking multiple times. Slowly, his head drops, as if slowly getting back into his senses. Roger takes the glass of water sitting on his nightstand and hands it to Brian.

“Tell me what are your plans again,” irritatingly, Roger _do_ remember what Brian is planning. He just wants his boyfriend to clear his head, because if Brian will continue to act like this, it’s going to be a huge problem. Roger knew that he won’t be able to face his Mum and Brian’s parents without getting mad at them at some point. That’s why he needs Brian to be in his calm and level-headed self before they meet them.

“I need to apologize to your Mother…” eyes closed, Brian starts recalling his plan. “If… if in case she’ll sent me home with my parents today, Roger…please do not threaten her again...”

Biting his lower lip, Roger takes Brian’s cold hands. He knew that threatening his mother about self-harm is the most effective way to make Brian stay. At the same time, he also _knew_ that it’s very manipulative and toxic of him. 

But…it’s just that he was left with no choice that night…

“Do you even know how much it pained me when I heard those words, Roger? Is it still not clear to you how important you mean to me? Those words made me feel something inside me already died…” Brian’s voice is shaking. “What do you think _I_ will feel, if you’ll do something like that? Do you think I will stay the same? Roger, if you take away your life then you’re also taking mine, too.”

Couldn’t look at him directly in the eyes, Roger kept his lips pressed together.

“I want to make this right… I’d want her and my parents to accept us…”

“But what if they don’t…?”

“We’ll find a way…it’ll be easier once you’re in London… I’ll wait for you.”

Roger felt crushed inside. Brian’s words sounding as if he’s already saying goodbye. 

They didn’t wait that long for Mr. Edmund to come and collect them. His mother’s assistant looks surprisingly calm when he found them, wrapped around each other on Roger’s bed. 

It would’ve been fascinating to see what Mr. Edmund’s reaction would be, if he caught Roger and Brian having sex that moment: naked bodies, Roger taking in all of Brian’s length, and both of their eyes clouded with lust and desire. He should’ve agreed to have a quickie with Brian after all. 

“The mistress has arrived. She wants to see the both of you,” Mr. Edmund told them, then waits for them to follow him.

They were taken to his mother’s office again, of course. Mr. Edmund knocks on the door first, then announces, “Madame, Brian and Roger are here.”

Brian curled his cold hand around his, visibly swallowing the nervous lump on his throat, but trying to keep a calm expression. Roger slightly pulled him sideways to give him a kiss on the cheek. Brian smiled a little and kisses him back on his forehead. Roger likes the fact that Brian doesn’t even mind that Mr. Edmund is standing right in front of them.

_They’re in this together._

_As lovers._

_As allies._  
  
Just as what Brian said, Roger found Mr. and Mrs. May sitting on the opposite couch across his mother’s. Their already pale faces turned paler, as their eyes immediately went straight to their intertwined hands. 

“Have a seat, boys,” Mrs. Taylor cleared her throat, her expression darkening.

They sat on the single love-seat, not letting go of each other. Hands glued together, bodies too close. Making the parents more uncomfortable looking. Mr. Edmund quietly excused himself and leave the five of them. Roger’s eyes found some photos on the coffee table in front of Brian’s parents. It’s obvious _which_ photos those were.  
  
Roger tried to act all tough and courageous. But the moment when he met Mr. May’s eyes, he quickly looked down on the floor. 

“I… I have no words…” breaking the silence, Mr. May said in disbelief. “Since when…?” 

“Almost a month now, Dad,” Brian answered, controlling the wavering of his voice. Brian’s parents gasped. Meanwhile, Mrs. Taylor quickly shut her eyes, then opens them again and looked at the ceiling. 

“And you’re still together… up until now?” Mrs. May looks aghast.

“They love each other so much, that they refused to break up after I found out and confronted them for it,” taking a quick sip of cocktail, Mrs. Taylor sends them both a glare. “Too stubborn.”

“Brian, Roger, _why_ are you two doing this?” Mr. May asked. “You two know that this is illegal. Roger, you’re only 20. And, Brian— _son_ , you should know better than this.”

“But, Dad, we love each other,” slightly squeezing Roger’s hand, Brian reasoned out. “And we tried to be as careful as possible. And—” 

“Unfortunately, not careful as you think. Enough that you get caught,” Mrs. Taylor countered sarcastically. 

“Madame, we’re really sorry…”

Roger couldn’t take his mother’s bitchiness anymore. “And now that you caught us, you’re trying to break us up, right? Even though you’re taking away our happiness, you would still do it.”

“Boys, what’s going on between you two is really risky,” Mrs. May lectured them, though her tone still surprisingly remains motherly. “And it’s _too early_ to say that what you’re feeling is even love.” 

“And aren’t you with Christine, Brian?” Mr. May asked, accusingly. “Does she knows that you’re cheating on her?” 

“We broke up almost a year ago, Dad. She’s been seeing Tim for a couple of months now.”

“Neither of us has girlfriends. So nobody is cheating on nobody,” Roger clarified. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the deal between the Potgieter, Roger.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that there was never an official arrangement with the Potgieter’s, Mother,” Roger countered.

“Anyway…” clenching her jaw, Mrs. Taylor turned her attention to Brian’s parents instead. “Harold, Ruth, what do you think should do with these two? I was supposed to send Brian back home, the night I found out. But Roger threatened me.”

“Threatened you with what, Win?”

“Ending his life…”

Mr. and Mrs. May gasped again. Roger throws his mother a sharp look. 

Letting out a grave exhale, Mrs. Taylor takes the cocktail glass again. “Clare also cried and begged not to take Brian out-of-the mansion. I just don’t know what to do now…”

“Then we’ll take Brian home today,” Mr. May decided. “Can he not finish the remaining weeks of his tutoring contract?”

“No! You can’t!” Roger refused for the nth time. “Can’t you understand? It’s not just me you’re going to hurt, you’re going to hurt my sister, too!”

“Roger, you should understand that we don’t want this to be a reason of a scandal,” Mr. May said. 

“Also, do you even know what will you _Grandfather_ will do, once he found out about this?” Mrs. Taylor looked at him with fear in her eyes. “Roger, even _I_ don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Especially that these photos—” Mr. May waved them with pure disgust. “—were taken anonymously.”      

It was scary how Roger felt quickly defeated at that exact moment. “Why can’t you just be happy for us? Why do you all have to be so cruel? Brian and I are not doing anything harmless to anyone around us.”

“And we tried to ignore the feeling— we truly did,” Brian added. “But when we did, it felt so heart-wrenching. We can no longer hold back.”

“I fell for Brian the day he came here. I could no longer hide my feelings when I found out that Brian’s feeling was mutual.”

“You what?” Mrs. Taylor almost spat the drink in her mouth. Brian’s parents turned to her, then back to them.

“This thing that Roger and I have…” Brian breaks the silence that follows after.  “I cannot have this taken away from me. From us.”

“Then you’re a fool!” Mr. May looked really angry now. “Brian, you do know that there’s a big possibility that this relationship will not work! It is not going to be easy. And worse, you two might end up hurting each other.”

“Brian, listen to your father,” Mrs. May agreed. “You and Roger might mistaken the feeling as ‘love’, but it isn’t.”

Closing his eyes, Brian’s chest rises and falls as he breathes through his nose. Roger let out a surprised squeak when Brian finally snapped— “WHY DO YOU KEEP ON INSISTING THAT WHAT ROGER AND I HAVE IS NOT LOVE?!”

Perhaps, it’s also the first time they’ve seen Brian _this_ angry, the rest of the parents were left slack-jawed. 

“Is it your heart? Is it your feelings? NO! Do you really think that we will be both prancing around public, out to scandalize and humiliate ourselves? We are not fucking fools! We know all of the consequences! I will also apologize to Mr. Hickman, myself!” 

“Brian, young man, you have no idea what type of person my father is—”

“Then that is going to be my and Roger’s problem, Madame,” voice sharp, Brian answered courageously. Then his eyes moved to his parents. “Since I was little, I’ve been nothing but a good and obedient son to you. I studied very hard, because I want you to be proud of me. Now that I’m older, can you not just accept who I am, and who I choose to love? That’s all I’m asking...”

Mrs. May starts tearing up. Mr. May covered his face with his hand. Roger saw his mother, gnawing on her lower lip, as she fixes her eyes on the table. 

“Roger and I—” Brian’s words were cut off when Clare suddenly bolts inside the room from the adjoining door. She’s still wearing her ballet clothes. “BRIAN! ROGER!” 

“Get out here, young lady!” Mrs. Taylor tried to stop her, but Clare quickly ran towards them and clung to them both. “Edmund! Edmund! Take Clare out of here!" 

“No! No!” Clare screamed in fear when Mr. Edmund urgently stepped inside. Before the assistant could even manage to be near them, Roger quickly grabbed a teacup and smashed it on his foot. “Don’t even dare lay a finger on my sister.” 

“Roger!” Mrs. Taylor reprimanded him.

“Roger, don’t involve your sister in this…” growling at him, Mr. Edmund’s eyes darted from his mother’s direction to him.

“And don’t _you_ get involved with this! Get out!” Roger could feel Clare shaking, as Brian tries to calm her down. “I said get out!”

“Please don’t take Brian away! I’m begging you, please!” arms around Brian’s neck, Clare holding onto him as if it’s the end of the world. “Stop hurting him and my brother! Stop hurting _me_ _!_ ” 

“Clare, you are not supposed to be here—”

“You’re such a heartless bitch, Mum!” Clare cried in full-wrath. “I fucking hate you, so very much!”

Mirroring both Brian and Mr. May’s expressions, Roger’s jaw dropped. He have never heard Clare talked back to their mother like that. He had seen them fought before, but she had never used such vicious words toward her. 

“Sweetheart, don’t talk to your mother like that,” Mrs. May looks like she’s been doused in cold water. Mrs. Taylor looks like she’s been stabbed. 

“You’re all cruel! You’re supposed to understand them better— and yet you call yourselves parents!”

“Young lady, you’re too young to understand how serious this is,” Mr. May reproved her. “Let us talk to Roger and Brian alone, Clare.”

“And don’t you think they do not understand the serious situation they’re at?” Clare rebutted. “You’re supposed to love and accept them. I’m sure they already both know the consequences that they’ll be facing. Instead of ripping them apart, why don’t you just understand them and let them be? Do you think that they like seeing your disappointment like this? You’re all selfish! I’m sure that you’re only thinking about the family’s image!”

Speechless, Roger suddenly felt a strong admiration towards Clare's courageousness. And her broad understanding. It felt as if she’s not a 12 year old girl, but an actual grown adult. Brian continue soothing her back while the parents think of a proper rebuttal. 

“When I lost Dad I almost thought that I also lost Roger at the same time. Don’t you know how much pain it was to me, to see my beloved brother slowly withering away, when I just lost my father! Last year, I couldn’t even properly talk to him. If you only knew what kind of poor state Roger was last year… and the years before that…”

Clare's words just whacked him like club hitting his head. Roger just realized that he had no idea exactly what he was like in Clare's eyes, during those years he was wasting his life away. The fact that he didn’t even bother considering her feelings. The night before Mr. Taylor died; he had been taking care of Clare as she was very sick. He didn’t even know who broke the news to her.  
  
“Clare, sweetheart, we’re trying to—”  
  
“Are you really that close-minded and cruel to take away his happiness? Are you going to be finally be satisfied to see him suffer again? ” 

“It’s not like that, Clare. We just want the best for them.”

“No! No you don’t!” All of the sudden, Clare breathing comes out as short and uneven as she says, “I—I can’t breathe… Brian, I can’t breathe…”

“Shit…” Brian’s eyes grew wide, panicking. “Clare? Clare! stay with me…”

Mrs. May quickly rose from the seat. “I-I think…she’s having a panic attack…” 

When his sister saw Brian’s mother approaching them, Clare starts trashing. “N-No! No! Get away! Don’t come near us! Don’t take Brian from us!”

Roger just saw how pale Clare's face is while Brian tries to tell her to calm down. She’s almost strangling him now. Seeing Brian struggling, Roger unclasped her arms around his boyfriend’s neck while telling his sister to breathe properly, and assuring her that he and Brian will not leave her. He then overheard Mrs. May ordering her husband to prepare some water and Valerian or chamomile tea for the young mistress while their mother told Mr. Edmund to phone their family doctor.

It was an excruciating 15 minutes of Roger’s life as he have never seen his sister like that. He was so fucking worried and frightened! Clare was still slightly shaking as her hand locked with his, sitting up straight. Brian’s thumb softly pressed and making circular motion, on the point in-between Clare's eyebrows. Meanwhile, Mrs. May had removed Clare's ballet shoes and have been giving her feet acupressure for almost ten minutes now, as she kneels in front of the three of them.  
Roger caught a sight of his mother, just helplessly looking. Her eyes watery. And when their eyes met, Mrs. Taylor quickly looked away. As if she’s embarrassed for being so useless at time like this.

Once Clare finally calmed down, Mrs. May was the first one who spoke. “Clare, do you really want Brian to stay?”

“Yes…” Clare answered weakly. Before she could start tearing up again, Brian starts mutely caressing her hair. 

Mrs. May then stood up and gestured her husband and Mrs. Taylor to follow her inside the adjoining room, but kept the door wide open. Roger saw Mr. Edmund was guarding the office’s main door as he looks over his shoulder. 

“Clare, drink this,” Brian carefully helps her to drink the Valerian root tea.

“But it’s going to make me sleepy…" Clare complained, but takes the cup and drink some of it anyway. Brian didn’t answer as he multitasks with helping her while watching the parents talk. 

“What do you think they’re discussing about?” Roger swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. “Brian… I’m so afraid.”

Brian’s hazel gaze moves to him and Roger feel his heart just skipped a beat. His beloved tutor reached to cup the back of his neck with his free hand and says, “We’re in this together. I’m here…”

Just as Brian was about to lean in for a kiss, Clare, who was sitting in between them, said, “I’m here, too.”

So Brian settled to just kiss his and Clare's foreheads. At the same time, the parents walked in again, finally reached their decision. 

Mr. May stepped forward and announced in a clear voice, “We’ll let Brian stay.”

He heard Brian and Clare gasped. Even Mr. Edmund. 

Roger felt something heavy was removed from his chest. “So does that means you—?”

“Brian will stay here as Clare's  _tutor_ ,” Mrs. Taylor clarified as she interjected. “He will stay here as your sister’s tutor as his original contract stated. And will leave the mansion once it ended.”

Dejected, Roger’s shoulders dropped. “So it means you still have not accepted us…”

“We’ll allow you to talk to Brian and interact with him, but you two cannot be alone in private,” Mrs. May added.  
  
“No more sleeping in each others bedroom. No funny business.”

“It’s almost as good as vanishing him from the mansion, Mother!”  
  
Roger couldn’t believe this! _After all that was said…_

“But Madame, what you’re asking is—”

“Don’t be stubborn, lads!” Mr. May growled. “Brian, you came here to be Clare's tutor, simple as that. So that is what you’re _supposed_ to be doing. I don’t want to hear any more excuses or reasoning. You’ll spend your remaining weeks here as Clare's tutor, and that’s it! Is that clear?”

Not answering his father’s order, Brian turned to Clare to hide his face. His sister immediately hugs Brian back, eyes scared. Roger was about to reach Brian’s shoulder when Mr. May called his name next. “Roger, I don’t want to hear from your mother that you threatened her with self-harm again. If you do, I’ll have both Brian and Clare to be sent back to Feltham. And I’ll make sure that you’ll never have a chance to communicate with my son, ever again! Do you understand?”

An angry tear rolled down Roger’s face as he tries to challenge Mr. May with a stare-down. But unlike his mother, Mr. May didn’t budge a bit. Instead, the older gentleman fiercely meet his eyes that made him feel small inside.

Now he starts to wonder what Mr. Taylor would think if only he’s alive? Would he also threaten Brian with a gun, the way he threatened Roger’s previous tutor?

“Do you understand me, Roger?” 

“Y-Yes, sir…I understand…”   
  
“Very well then. Let’s go, Ruth,” Mr. May grabbed his wife’s hand. “We’re leaving.”   
  
With a clear pained look in her eyes, Mrs. May blinks the tears and takes her purse.

“Wait… before you go,” Mrs. Taylor is now handing them a white envelope. “I want you to take this.”

“What’s this, Win?” brows furrowed, Mrs. May opened it. Inside was a cheque.

“That’s Brian’s full salary. I want the two of you to take it instead.”

Mr. May gave his son a once-over. “But it’s still _his_ money, Win.”

“It’s _safer_ this way,” the cold look is back on Mrs. Taylor’s face. “I’m afraid that these two would shoot through once Brian have the money.”

That remark made Mr. and Mrs. May send their son a suspicious look.

Brian raised his head, shocked, “That thought had _never_ crossed my mind, Madame!”

“Perhaps, not you, dear,” Mrs. Taylor takes her drink again. “But how about your boyfriend over there?”

Sarcasm and bitterness was obvious when she mentioned the word ‘boyfriend’. Roger felt as if he’s a doe caught-in-the-headlights, when suddenly, all eyes were on him. 

“ _J'ignore de quoi vous parlez_ ,” Roger responded in an equally cold manner. “Please don’t psychoanalyze us, Mother.”

But… it was a lie… of course. Roger had had that thought the night his mother found out about them. He hasn’t told Brian about his plan. And now he’s a bit thankful that he hasn't.

Hand-in-hand, Brian’s parents briskly walked out the room without acknowledging their son. Even after Brian voiced out a helpless, “Wait… Mom…Dad…” 

It was so heartbreaking to see Brian in such a broken state. Roger unlaced his hand around his sister and attends his boyfriend, who did not refuse when he pulled him into a hug.

“Mom, that is so cruel! You’re all cruel,” Clare said just before Mrs. Taylor could step out of the office.

“You’ve gotten what you wanted, yet you’re still calling me cruel?” Mrs. Taylor replied, snarky. “Oh my darling daughter, I must be really a horrible mother.” 

Brian stopped Clare before she could say another word. “That’s enough…”  
  
“But, Bri...” Clare grumbled

“Enough…” Brian repeated.

“That’s enough,Clare,” Roger agreed. He’s still very much mad at his mother, but he’s well aware that Clare had already spewed enough venomous words for today. Mrs. Taylor can act like a cold, unbothered bitch if she wants to, but Roger can see that she’s very close from breaking down again.  

“I want the three of you in your own bedrooms. You’ll have your dinner there, too.”

And just like the last time, the familiar slamming sound of the door echoed once more.  
 

                 His mother had really done it this time. Roger was shocked. He couldn’t imagine that his mother would go through the lengths of hiring a fucking _bodyguard_ to guard the outside of his bedroom door— and wherever part of the mansion he will go to. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I’ll be in my sister’s room,” Roger angrily barked at the man who stands 6’2 and is built like a tank. The man didn’t even answer him and just continue to follow him.  
  
Then, Roger remembered that Brian and Clare are now having their class in the main library. It would be pointless to stay in his sister’s room. So, Roger decided to go there instead. To his own fucking surprise, there’s _another_ bodyguard outside the library’s door!  
  
_‘Oh God! Are you joking, Mum?!’_

The mansion’s heir then realized that the other bodyguard was for his boyfriend. He was holding his breath while he’s approaching the door knob, anticipating to be stopped and tackled. But then he remembered that he’s allowed to enter the room because Clare was also inside. 

Clad in a white polo shirt, the chain of his locket peeking, and black skinny trousers, Brian was in the middle of explaining something in the world map, only to stop when he noticed him walked in. Roger was about to call his name when he realized that his _mother_ was also inside the room.

“Oh… what brought you here, Roger?” returning her eyes on the documents in front of her, Mrs. Taylor asked him in a bland tone. Then she adds, “If you’re only here to interrupt —please don’t, because your sister have lots of catching up to do with her classes.”

He felt Brian and Clare's cautious gaze on him. Roger ignored his mother. He’s not planning to interrupt or disturb the class at all. He greets his sister with a kiss on the top of her head, before waking towards Brian, wordlessly giving his hand a quick squeeze. Though in reality, Roger really, really wants to kiss him. Although, he’s aware that even the simple gesture alone made Brian worried and a little bit uncomfortable.  
  
Sighing, Roger plants himself on the chaise lounge and listens to Brian’s voice as he awkwardly resumes the lesson. The tutor discussing something about the Tudor’s family. Stretching his arm, he plucks the closest book from the shelf that is within his reach: _The Hunting of the Snark_ by Lewis Caroll. His Aunt Crystal gave that book to him as a gift, four years ago.  
  
With Brian’s soft and gentle voice in the background, Roger lied down and starts reading. Relaxed and contented. Sleep starts to creep up on him in between the last lines of ‘The Bellman’s speech’ and ‘The Baker’s Tale’...  
  
“Wake up, Roger. Wake up!”   
  
Clare was crouching down as she shakes his shoulder. “Wake up now, sleepy face. It’s lunch time.”  
  
Adjusting his vision, he saw Brian currently erasing his writings on the blackboard.   
  
“Mom already stepped out. I’ll stay here for a couple of minutes if you want to talk to him,” Clare whispered, whipping her head towards the door. “Just make it quick, okay?”  
  
When Brian turned around, Roger’s face broke into a small smile. It was a bit frightening how much he  missed him already, even though they’ve only been apart for hours. He stayed in that position when Brian kneels down on the side of the chaise lounge, facing him, beside Clare.   
  
“I’ll watch the door,” in a hushed voice, Clare volunteered as she turns her back against them.  
  
Just like Roger, Brian obviously didn’t have enough sleep last night, as the bags and lines under his eyes were darker and obvious. But, Brian’s eyes are twinkling. Roger just love the fact that Brian looked so delighted to see him.  
  
“Hello, Professor May…” Roger smiled at him, sleepily.  

“My dear Mr. Taylor, I guess my class was too boring for you that you slept with your mouth hanging open,” Brian jokingly pinches the bridge of his nose. “I thought you will drool.”   
  
Clare giggled. “I thought so, too!”

Playfully swatting Brian’s hand away, Roger stretches. “Your class was not boring. I just didn’t have enough sleep that’s all.”

Lowering his eyes, a look of guilt and worriedness replaced the smile on Brian’s face. “Oh… _right_. Sorry…”  

Of course, Roger’s unfiltered mouth _always_ finds its way to say the most insensitive things in a situation like this. Afraid on stepping on a landmine again, instinctively, he cups Brian’s cheek and presses his lips to his.  
  
When Brian kisses him back, Roger’s hand traveled from his cheek to the back of the tutor’s neck. His lips felt warm and tastes like Chamomile tea.

Roger was about to deepen the kiss when—

“Erm… I...”  
  
Both of their eyes shot open.  _Clare!_  
  
His sister’s face was flushed and her eyes wide. “Sorry… you could’ve told me. I didn’t — I mean I saw just a _little!_ I mean, Brian’s hair was blocking my view—”  
  
Brian turned fire-hydrant red as he quickly fixes himself. “I didn’t — I mean, we didn’t mean to, Clare… I’ll go out first! Sorry!”

Sighing as he slowly sits-up, Roger watches his boyfriend flee the room.  
  
“I didn’t see a lot, I promise!” Clare told him again. “Oh gosh! Brian must’ve been too embarrassed now!”  
  
“Oh… no...” Roger sarcastically wrinkled his nose. “Not really…”  
  
Clare frowned at him. “Are you not going to follow him?”  
  
“I want to, but I can’t,” then Roger raised both his shoulders. “We cannot be alone together, remember? Have you seen those bodyguards?”  
  
“Oh… right…” Clare sighed deeply.  Her mouth then moved, as if about to say something but then hesitated.  
  
“What is it, Princess?”  
  
“Have you talked to Mum already? In private, I mean. Just the two of you. About Brian and your relationship?”  
  
“I don’t think she would want to talk to me right now.”  
  
Letting out a resigned exhale, Clare says, “I thought that if you’ll be able to talk to Mum, there’s a chance that Brian can stay longer.” 

Roger’s lower lip twitched downward. “Even if Mum will all of the sudden, miraculously accepted my relationship with Brian, your tutor cannot really stay here longer as he’ll have to take his PhD. And you’ll also have to go back to Roedean.”  
  
“You’re luckier than me, Roggie. You’ll be able to see Brian often once you start attending Imperial.” 

“Don’t worry, Clare. We’ll try to visit you often.”

Starting to get teary-eyed, Clare strode towards him. “I just want to be happy, Rog. I think we’ve suffered long enough. I think we deserve some little happiness.”  
  
Roger hugged his little sister tightly. This poor, fatherless girl with an absent mother and a broken older brother. She deserves _more than_ some little happiness.  

“This will all change, Clare. It’ll get better, I promise.”

 

That same night, after dinner, Roger decided to have a private conversation with his mother inside her office. His heart racing, as he continues to reminds himself to calm down and get his thoughts straight.

Lacing her fingers together, Mrs. Taylor looks at him like a specimen under the microscope.  
  
“Before anything else, I just want to set the record straight: I’m not here to argue or have a screaming match with you again,” Roger immediately clarified.   
  
“Very well. Is this about you and Brian?” Mrs. Taylor asked, confirming. “If you’re here to plead to extend his stay here, that would be a hard no, Roger. And you already know that that was his parents’ decision.”  
  
“I am very much aware, Mum,” Roger really put some effort not to sound bitter and disappointed. “It’s about how you treat Brian.”  
  
“What do you mean, Roger?” Mrs. Taylor raised her brow, almost snotty.

“ _This_ ,” Roger pointed out. “You’ve completely changed. It feels that you’re a totally different person to him. And it’s hurting him so bad.”  
  
“Did Brian told you that?”  
  
“No,” Roger shakes his head. “It’s solely based on my _observation_. It’s like having two different mothers. It’s almost as if the ‘sweet and generous Mrs. Taylor’ was just an act.”  
  
“I would have continued treating him the same way, if only I didn’t found out that you two were in a relationship,” clearly disappointed, Mrs. Taylor sighed. Then she adds. “I really adore Brian. I _still_ do. Although, by now, you already know that I will never approve what’s going on between the two of you.”  
  
Roger swallowed hard. The anger in his chest is rising. “So you don’t want me to be happy? Is that it, Mum?”  
  
“I want you to be happy. But not with Brian. Not this way.”  
  
_You mean not in YOUR way…_  
  
“It’s because we’re both boys, right?” Roger flashed her a teary, sarcastic smile. “You couldn’t accept the fact that I’m gay.”

Mrs. Taylor’s eyes widens as her face fell. But she swiftly collected herself after a split minute. Then with a dismissive tone, she said,“I want you to leave now, Roger. This talk is over.”

Roger felt the familiar sting of rejection again. It hurts like hell. He couldn’t easily get used to it. But before he shuts the door behind him, Roger said, “Thank you for your time, Mum. I hope that Brian will at least see the _old_ Mrs. Taylor, before he leaves this house.”

   

           “Why was my French class suddenly been cancelled, Mr. Edmund?” curiously, Clare asked as they’re having lunch, Tuesday afternoon.

According to Mrs. Taylor’s assistant, their mother left early this morning for a Charity gala. Usually, Mr. Edmund is her plus one for this type of events. It’s just a bit odd to see him stay behind and have to watch them over, which is normally Mr. Tony’s job. 

“You were invited to attend the premiere of Ms. Dominique’s movie this evening,” Mr. Edmund answered as he slices the grilled chicken on his plate. They’re having a Mexican-themed lunch. Brian quietly enjoying his veggie fajita pasta, sitting beside Clare.  
  
Roger’s left brow raised: _their mother allowed them?_

Two nights ago, Dom had phoned him and reminded him about the said premiere. Roger didn’t exactly confirm anything by immediately changing the topic. He just does not want to disappoint her, because he wasn’t sure if his Mrs. Taylor will let them go out and have fun, especially with the current situation.  
  
“Oh! Wow!” Clare perks up. “And Brian is coming with us, right?”

With a small smile on his face, Mr. Edmund nodded. “Yes, he will join you and Roger later.”  
  
Clare excitedly squealed. Then clings and leans on Brian’s bicep. She then turned to Roger and sends him the biggest smile she could muster, “I’m so excited!”  
  
Roger smiled back, pleased, seeing his sister genuinely happy like this. The blond heir’s gaze then moves to his boyfriend. Brian flashes him that familiar, breathtaking smile.

“Why are you blushing, Rog?” wiggling her brows, a knowingly smile on Clare's face.  
  
“Shut up,” Roger could feel his face heating up. But it’s not as embarrassing, as Brian’s the same. 

 

At exactly six in the evening, Roger is sat on the backseat of his old Rolls-Royce, in-between Clare and Brian, on their way to Regal Theatre in Redruth, Cornwall. The weather is cold, so he had an excuse to discreetly hold Brian’s hand underneath a blanket.  
  
When they arrived, the red carpet was already rolled and the place was swarmed with paps.

“Oh my God! There are lots photographers!” mumbling to himself, Brian looks outside a bit worriedly. 

Roger feels quite nervous as well. He didn’t expect that the crowd will be _this_ big. He knew that this movie is supposed to be an Indie-movie (about love and family). Dominique’s role was only a minor character; one of the leads’ daughters. He heard from Dom that there are some couple of A and B-list stars in this film. But Roger was only half-listening on that part of the conversation; his mind was half-filled with Brian as he toyed with his pocket watch.

Mr. Edmund instructed them to stay inside the car for a bit, before letting them step out. Clare, who is dressed in a sleeveless, sequined bodice dot mesh party dress, immediately links her arm around his and Brian’s.  
  
“Relax, mate. You’ll be fine,” Roger subtly leans sideways to whisper to Brian. His boyfriend looks immaculate with the suit that Roger helped him to pick out. Though, it’s obvious that Brian is so nervous, as he can’t seem to stop fiddling with his monogrammed scarf that Freddie gave as a birthday gift.  

“Don’t worry, Brian. We’re here, too," Clare told him with a smile. “You just have to smile and show them your natural, charming-self.”

Roger couldn’t stop himself from frowning at his sister. He wants to comfort Brian _alone_. Preferably in private. By kissing him and–

“Roger! Brian! Clare!” someone called them from the crowd.

“John! Julie! Hiii!!!” Clare excitedly waves. Roger saw his cousins waving at them.  
      
Clare immediately run to Julie, and both girls hugged. Meanwhile, John hugged him and Brian. 

“It’s been a while, Rog,” Julie commented. She had gotten taller and her light brown hair had gotten longer. 

“I’ve missed you, Jules.”

He and Clare introduced Brian to their cousin. They were in the middle of exchanging pleasantries when Mr. Edmund called them, together with John and Julie’s Nanny –yes, they still have one– and told them to have their picture taken at the red carpet. 

“Roger, over here!”  
  
“John, look here!”  
  
“Stand closer, children! That’s it! Perfect! Smile!”  
  
Roger almost got blinded. After getting their picture taken, he starts rubbing his eyes. The white spots are still there even after blinking multiple times.  

“Are you okay?” Brian pulled him to the side, letting the other guests pass by. 

“Yes. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t notice the look that crossed John’s face as he observes them quietly. 

The movie was a total tearjerker and touching. Dominique’s acting has improved so much, in comparison from her previous movies.

Clare and Julie were crying their eyes out during the scene when the family was saying goodbye to the beloved Grandma, played by Phyllis Neilson-Terry. Afraid that he won’t be able to control his tears any longer, Roger stood up from his seat and dashed to the nearest mens room to calm himself down.  

Minutes later, Brian walks in, looking a little bit flushed. Behind him was John.  
  
“Err…?” Roger’s eyes danced from his boyfriend to his cousin.  
  
“John said he wants to talk to us,” Brian explained.

“Oh- Okay…?” 

“Let’s go to the bar,” John invites them. 

Since the movie hasn’t ended yet, they were able to immediately find a quiet and private spot inside the theatre’s cocktail lounge. Seconds after they sat down, the waiter served them complimentary vodka martinis.

“What is it, John?” anxiety is really biting him by the balls the moment Roger took a swig of his drink. Brian looks really worried, too. It’s bad enough that his cousin is quite naturally hard to read. 

“I know that this is not my business, but... I accidentally overheard Aunt Win and my Dad, talking– arguing about _something…”_ there’s a look of guilt on John’s face as he starts talking quietly, but loud enough for them to hear. “And I should’ve not continued listening after putting two and two together…”  
  
Roger’s heart dropped while Brian’s face turned ghostly white. “Y-You heard their conversation... about _us_...right?” 

John nods slowly as he confirms. Then he adds, “Not just that. Also, someone sent me _this_.”

His cousin fished out something from his blazer’s inner pocket and placed it down on the table, face down. It’s a white square paper thing. A photo to be precise. Roger watches as Brian flips over the photo. It was their photo from the party. The kissing one.

“It was sent to me anonymously. Just in a plain, white envelope,” John continued explaining. “Dad told me not to get involved.”

 _‘𝓘𝓼  𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓢 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽?  𝓓𝓲𝓼𝓰𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰!’_ it said on the back, written with a reddish-pink ink. 

“Roger, do you have any idea who would do such a thing?” John asked.  

“Actually… I’m thinking it’s Mr. Edmund,” Roger answered. He’s been suspecting his mother’s assistant since.  
  
“Me, too,” Brian agreed with a nod. 

John looked at them both, confused. His expression saying that he does not agree with their hunch. His cousin takes the photo from his hand and points at the writing, " _Look_ at this, Rog. Look at the pen that was used. It’s pink.”  
  
Roger’s brows knotted, not understanding. “I don’t get it, John.”  
  
“This is a limited edition Lamy fountain pen, Roger. This is quite popular for _school girls._ ”  
  
“I still don’t understand.” 

All of the sudden, Roger heard Brian gasped. “I remember Clare showing me a pen like that! But she doesn’t use it much in our classes, because she said that the ink costs a little more. She said that other girls in her school had begged their parents to buy them that special pen.”

“What are you talking about, Brian?” Roger is now starting to get annoyed as he couldn’t keep up with his cousin and boyfriend’s conversation.  “Are you saying that you’re suspecting _Clare_?”

“No!” snarling, they chorused.

“Then what is it?” Roger snarled back.

“I’m saying that you’re both suspecting the _wrong_ person, Rog,” John’s eyes darken. “Do you still remember all the girls you invited during your birthday?”  
  
Roger’s mouth went dry. “Yes. And I do still have the list at home... somewhere. So you’re saying that the person who took the photos was probably one of my female classmates… or a cousin?” 

“Yes.”

“John, that’s…”

“Think about it hard, Roger.” 

 

The thought lingers as Roger rakes his brain for the possible culprit on their way home. 

 _Who could’ve done it?_  
  
Brian and Clare were already asleep, using his shoulders as their pillow.  

_Who could’ve done it?_

It starts to rain.

_Who could’ve done it?_

Tired of thinking, just as he’s closing his eyes, Roger heard Pierre says,“Sir Edmund, did you order some bodyguards to follow us?” 

_Who could’ve done it?_

“No, Pierre. What’s the matter?” 

_Who could’ve done it?_

“There are two cars that have been tailgating us since we left the theatre,” Pierre explained. “That’s the reason why I took a different route. But they’re still following.” 

 _Who could’ve done it?_  

Roger’s eyes snapped open and met Mr. Edmund’s green eyes as they both look at the rear view mirror at the same time. The car suddenly stopped with a loud screech, jolting both Clare and Brian awake.

“Jesus!”  
  
“Pierre!?!”

“I’m so sorry, sir!” Pierre sounds alert yet scared. “There’s a car that suddenly blocked our way!”

Roger’s heart starts to race. He saw how Mr. Edmund discreetly reached for the gun from the car’s compartment. 

“What’s going on?” wide-eyed, Brian asked him.

Roger couldn’t really see it clearly, but he saw two silhouettes approaching their car. Clare curled up to him, breathing heavily. “Rog, I’m scared.”

One of the silhouettes knocked on the passenger’s seat window. The assistant slowly rolled down the window, keeping the gun hidden.    
  
“Good evening, Mr. Edmund.” 

“M-Mr. Leeds,” the assistant greeted back. “Is there a problem?”

 _Mr. Leeds!? Why is he here?_  
  
Mr. Leeds is the head of Mr. Arthur Hickman’s private security. The man who stands 6’3, with fit boxer-like physique, and cold gray eyes, Roger had always feared him while growing up. Despite the fact that Mr. Leeds has always been respectful and generally quiet, it always feels like Roger’s always being scrutinized whenever he is around.

“We’re here to _collect_ Mr. Roger. And the tutor, Mr. Brian May." 

... _What…?_  

“I’m afraid that there has been a mistake,” Mr. Edmund sends them a side-way glance. “The Madame didn’t tell me about this.” 

“There’s no mistake here. This is _Mr. Hickman’s order_ , Mr. Edmund.”

Roger pulled both Brian and Clare close to him, horror-struck. _No! No! No!_

“Can we at least go home first and let the Madame know about this? I cannot just go home without the boys.”  

“Mr. Edmund, I don’t think you understand the urgency of the situation.”

Just then, the door on Brian’s side unlocked. “Mr. Edmund!” Brian cried in panic. 

“The Madame is aware of the situation,” Mr. Leeds explained with his eerie, calm voice. “You don’t have to worry. We’re are not going to hurt them.” 

“But, Mr. Leeds. I need to take them home first and confirm with the Madame–”

“This will not take long, Mr. Edmund.”

Another bodyguard appeared and practically plucks Brian out-of-the car, before taking Roger. Clare was so stupefied that she couldn’t even cry or shout.

“Mr. Leeds, please!” Roger saw how Mr. Edmund tried to open the door, but the man blocks it like a wall. 

“W-Why are you tying my hands? I am not even refusing!” Brian protested as both of his hands were pinned behind his back. “Sir, we’re willingly surrendering to you. Don’t do this, please!”  
  
“Hey! Stop it!” Roger attempts to rescue him. Only to be grabbed by another bodyguard behind him. Then Roger felt a rag forced into his nose and mouth, knocking him out of his consciousness…

 

The room was beyond freezing the next time Roger woke. He found a sleeping Brian, sitting on a roll back sofa in front of him. Alert, Roger quickly scanned the room they’re in: a luxurious office with over-looking floor-to ceiling glass windows that gives the picturesque evening view of Penzance Harbour. There’s a photo of him, Clare, and their mother. It’s been years since he had been in that office; his grandfather’s office. 

Mr. Leeds just raised his eyebrow when he starts waking Brian up. When Brian finally stirred, Mr. Leeds briefly left the room and came back with his Master, Mr. Arthur Hickman. 

Dressed in a plain navy two-button suit, Mr. Hickman gave them a cold, blank stare the moment he walks in. Removing his hands from his pants’ pockets, his grandfather crossed his arms over his chest and stands in front of them.

“Roger, Mr. May, I think you already both know the _reason_ why you’re both here.”

“We do,” Roger answered. “Although, I hope that you told my Mum about your plans about kidnapping us.” 

Mr. Hickman’s eyes narrowed then chuckled, as if Roger just said something funny to him. Instead of answering, he walks towards his desk, before throwing something at them: _the photos_. At this point, Roger was no longer surprised. He think that whoever is doing this, probably has spread their photos all over Cornwall.  

“Care to explain yourselves, boys?”

“Brian and I are in a relationship, plain and simple.” 

“Rog, let’s not be hostile,” Brian told him under his breath. Despite being practically held hostage, Brian explains in a polite manner, “We love each other, sir,”

“ _Which_ part of my grandson do you love more? Him or the _money_?”

Upon hearing that, Brian looked like he’s been punched in the gut.

“Really?” Roger exploded with anger. “How fucking dare you to accuse Brian, pops! You don’t even know him!” 

Mr. Hickman clicks his tongue, disappointed. “Roger, you’re still too young and too fragile to see through things. That boy is an _opportunist_. I can’t believe your mother still let him stay in your house after knowing the affair.” 

“I am not an opportunist, Mr. Hickman,” Brian refuted, jaw-clenched. “Please stop the accusations just because I came from a middle-class family.”

“I can’t believe that after all these years, you’re still a snob as you are before!” Roger snarled. “You still haven’t changed.”

“Then let me ask Mr. May this: _why_ Roger?” Mr. Hickman sat on the edge of his chestnut colored executive desk. “I _heard_ a rumor about you being linked to my daughter. Little did I know that you’re actually clandestinely seeing my grandson instead. What an actual plot twist.”

“I don’t have an exact answer, Sir,” Brian explained. “I just started having feelings for him. I tried to stop the feeling – we both did– but we can no longer resist it. Mr. Hickman, I don’t have any ill plans towards your grandson nor your family nor your family’s wealth. I just love Roger the way he is.” 

“ _Of course…_ ” Mr. Hickman sighed, takes a cigarette and lights it. “Mr. May, you do know that I could actually send you to prison for having a same-sex affair with Roger, right?”

“As if I’ll allow that to happen, Pops!” Roger spat in greeted teeth. “Don’t you dare touch Brian or else!”

His grandfather let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh dear! Are you threatening me, pet?”

“Just stop meddling with my life! I am so tired getting controlled by you.”

Mr. Hickman raised his brow. “Control?”

“Yes! I am so fucking tired of it!”

“Rog, your voice,” worriedly, Brian links his hand with his. 

But Roger ignored him. “All my life, I've witnessed how you treated my father like shit. Even after all of his success. After trying all his best to gain your respect!”

“Roger, if you only knew how many shitty things your father has done when he was still alive,” Mr. Hickman said in a condescending tone. “You’re making him sound like he’s some sort of a saint, pet.”  
  
Roger used to love the endearment when he was younger. Right now, he just wants his grandfather calling him that. Just as the blond heir was about to say a reply, Mr. Leeds announces, “Sir, your daughter's outside.”  

_Mum?_

“Let her in.”  
  
“Madame…” Brian quickly stood up the moment his mother bolts inside the room.  

The gray sheath gown that she’s wearing was drenched. Her eye make-up was practically melted to her skin. And for the love of– she’s holding a _gun!_

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Mrs. Taylor angrily yelled at the other bodyguards before she looked at her father. “Didn’t I told you not to get involved, Dad!?!”

“Roger is my grandson and my collateral heir. Of course, I’ll get involved with this.” 

“By kidnapping them! Are you out-of-your mind?”

“But they said that you knew about this, Madame,” Brian looks at Mr. Leeds. 

“No. I do not,” Mrs. Taylor growled. “Now I want the two of you out of this room. And wait for me outside, in the car.”

“I’m not going to allow you to condone this relationship, Win,” Mr. Hickman said. “I want them to end this now. You know, you’re not really doing a great role as a mother. I’m disappointed.”

“I told you that I’ll fix this myself! You’re not really helping the situation by doing this.”

“And _this_ is your solution? You’re keeping the tutor that your son is having an affair with.”

“This is not just about Roger, this is also about Clare,” Mrs. Taylor sounded exasperated. “And why are we discussing this _again_ _?_ I’ve already told you everything over the phone!”

“And I also told you that I’ll make a move, if you’re not going to do anything to stop this sin.”

“No! I will not allow you to put them on Conversion Therapy!” Mrs. Taylor shouted at her father.  

 _Conversion Therapy?_ What’s that? 

“Never again I’ll allow you to send Roger nor Brian to that hellish place!”

“Can I just say one thing?” when Brian turned to Mr. Hickman, Roger practically held his breath. “Sir, I know that you have amazing plans for Roger and his future, but please do allow him to grow as a person. The Roger that I fell in love with is a smart, witty, courageous, and a kind person, despite all of the things that had happened to him. He had told me how close the two of you were. In my opinion, it is such a waste to continue straining your relationship with him like this.”

“Your opinions does not matter to me, boy,” looking at Brian as if he’s some sort of parasite, Mr. Hickman scoffs. “You’re basically just an outsider in this family.”

“Brian once saved Roger from death. So he’s not an outsider.”

Roger was surprised hearing his mother defending Brian. But he doesn’t get his hopes up when she barks at them,“Out. You two.” 

“Does Roger already know, Win?”

Roger bewilderingly turned to his grandfather. “Know _what_?”

“It’ll be up to my decision _when_ to tell him,” Mrs. Taylor’s face suddenly looked flushed. “I want you to stay out of my children’s lives from now on, Dad. I don’t want them to experience what I’ve suffered from you! ” 

“Suffered?” Mr. Hickman let out a sarcastic snort. “I gave you almost everything in this world, Winifred. And don’t forget the fact that I still accepted you after marrying that prat.”

“I haven’t,” there was a sardonic smile forming on his mother’s face. “And I also still haven’t forgotten the fact that you kept your eyes closed during the many times I got molested –almost got raped at one point– by some of your business partners when I was still a helpless teenager. And the fact that you’ve still kept them around, even _now_.”

Roger felt a cold chill run down his body. Like something inside him froze. Brian’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out from their sockets. For the first time in his life, Roger witnessed his grandfather, pale and stunned.

“You’re not really in the right position to tell me that I’m a bad parent, when you’re a bad parent yourself,” Mrs. Taylor pointed out, acidly. “And stop degrading my husband as if you haven’t done enough when he was still alive. Must you not forget that he also helped you to grow a portion of your business. It’s not all about you.” 

Roger have lots of questions running through his mind. But all he can do is to follow his mother out the door, following Brian.  
  
“The saying, _‘Like father, like son’_ really is true, right, my dear daughter?” Mr. Hickman said as they reached the doorway. “Who would’ve thought that this _nightmare_ will come back and haunt you? The one that had hurt you many years ago...” 

 _What?_  
  
Mrs. Taylor paused. Roger thought that she’ll probably breakdown and crumble at that point. Instead, his mother held her head high. Then she said, “At the very least, this time, I will face them and make peace with them. I’ll even gladly shake their hand if needed. You can’t control me anymore.”

“You’re such a foolish girl, Winifred!” for the first time that moment, Roger saw his Grandfather lose his cool. “You’ll regret this, I’m telling you!”

“Maybe... but it’s going to be my problem to face,” a small and melancholic smile appeared on her face. As her departing words, she said to her father, “Brian’s right, you know: you’ve already lost your daughter, you might not want to lose your grandson. Maybe not your granddaughter, too.”

Much to Roger's surprise and relief, no one followed them out. Brian held his hand the whole time as they silently follow Mrs. Taylor as she leads the way outside his grandfather’s 5-storey office. It’s almost 12 midnight. The sky is pitch black. It’s still pouring, and the cold wind is giving him an eerie flashback of the night when his father died.

“Get in the backseat,” Mrs. Taylor ordered in a clipped manner as they approached the badly parked Cadillac. “ _Se depecher!”_    
  
His mother came and rescued them all by herself. Roger was surprised about the fact that his mother still knows how to drive. Speaking of driving, Mrs. Taylor practically gunned the car out-of-the place and only slowed down as they’re passing Exiter. Nobody dared to talk during the half-an-hour ride back to the mansion. Only the car radio serves as a distraction. 

When they’ve finally reached the mansion, Roger was finally able to breathe properly. The suffocating feeling withering away.

Brian quickly hugged himself and mumbled some words to himself.  “We’re safe…” 

“Madame!” carrying an umbrella, Mr. Edmund called as he rushed outside to meet the mansion’s mistress. “Thank God! You’re all safe.”

“Clean up, change your clothes, and meet me in my office in 20 minutes,” Mrs. Taylor instructed them before she stepped out of the car.  

With a quick hug and a peck on the lips, they both obediently followed what they were told. They ignored the discreet yet curious staring of some of the maids as they both entered the mansion.

Roger practically collapsed on the floor the moment he reached his bedroom, physically and mentally exhausted. His bodyguard didn’t even flinched when Roger passed by him, drenched and pale as sheet. He’d really want to smoke some cannabis to calm his nerves, but his mother wants to talk to him and Brian.

 _“The saying, ‘Like father, like son’ really is true, right, my dear daughter?”_  

What does his grandfather mean by that, exactly? _Aaargh! It feels as if his head is going to explode!_  

To drown his thoughts, Roger turned on the player. He let Hendrix do the screaming for him by turning up the volume, so loud, it’s almost deafening.  Once he’s bathed and dressed, Roger made his way to his mother’s office. He doesn’t need to knock as Mr. Edmund was waiting outside for them. “Brian’s not yet here. Would you like to come in first?”

Roger just nodded as his response. _He is not the culprit..._

Clad in beautiful Japanese silk robe, he found his mother, back turned against him and is looking at the window. There’s a faint smell of cigarettes in the air. Slowly, Roger approached her and stands next to her.  

“Where’s Brian?” in a cold voice, Mrs. Taylor asked. Roger just realized that she’s crying as she wipes her eyes.

Carefully, Roger reaches out to touch his mother’s hand instead of answering. He knew that there’s a possibility that she’ll reject and it’ll break his heart, but the inner-child in him is just craving to feel that maternal warmth.  

His voice cracks when he told her, “Thank you very much, Mum. And I-I’m sorry…”

Euphoria washes over Roger the moment when his mother didn’t even think twice when she pulled him into a tight hug. And just like a little child, Roger didn’t hide his tears from her. They’re both shaking, but they held each other as support.

“Thank you, Mum. I was so afraid. We were so afraid of him…”

“Shhh… you’re safe now,” Mrs. Taylor soothed him, caressing Roger’s hair that made his heart swell. “I won’t allow him to touch you and Brian again.”

Roger let himself cry a little more. “I’m so sorry for all of the hurtful things that I’ve said before. I’m also very sorry for threatening you about me doing self harm again.”

Mrs. Taylor just nodded as she kept him in her arms. Although Roger wasn’t sure if he is completely forgiven, he hopes that his genuine apology would be the first step to have a reconciliation with his mother.  “I don’t want to fight you anymore, Mum. I’m getting tired. I just…”

“I know… I know…” a warm, soft palm pressed against his cheek. 

“Mum, I’ve missed you…” it was ridiculous how childlike Roger sounded. Although he couldn’t care less as his mother needs to know that.  

“Me, too,” Mrs. Taylor kissed the top of his head.

Then the door cracked open and Brian steps in. Mrs. Taylor gave Roger another kiss on his forehead and both of his cheeks.

Roger saw how quickly Brian got teary when Mrs. Taylor spreads her arms for him. Brian’s eyes grew wide; his mouth quickly opened and closed. The tutor immediately ran to the Queen, as if afraid that she might suddenly change her mind. And just like Roger, Brian didn’t mind crumbling like a child in front of her. 

“Thank you, Madame… Thank you…”

It was such a heartwarming sight to see his boyfriend and his mother like that. Roger couldn’t help not to wrap his arms on them both. Roger felt safe and warm and loved.

He’s finally _home._

“Let’s have a seat so I can properly talk to you two,” Mrs. Taylor told them after a moment passed. Brian reached out to touch his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. Once they’re settled, Roger and Brian sitting next to each other on the couch, while Mrs. Taylor sat on the love-seat beside them.  

Taking a deep breath before she speaks, Mrs. Taylor stared at their intertwined hands. But unlike the last time, her eyes weren’t sharp. Instead they look warm and thoughtful. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

“No. He didn’t physically hurt us,” Brian answered. “He said hurtful things though… mostly about your husband…”

Roger nods. “I can’t believe that he’s still this wrathful towards Dad, Mum. And…”

“And?” lifting her teacup, Mrs. Taylor raised both of her brows.

_‘I also still haven’t forgotten the fact that you kept your eyes closed during the many times I got molested –almost got rape at one point– by some of your business partners when I was still a helpless teenager!’_

There goes that chill again. “And I’m so sorry to know what he had done to you in the past. I just couldn’t imagine the pain he put you through…” 

Mrs. Taylor stared at her cup, looking so meek and small. It almost seems that she’s not the same woman who rescued them while she was armed with a gun. And because of that, Roger wants to hug his mother again.

“I was supposed to marry one of your grandfather’s business partners, a month before your Dad and I eloped,” Mrs. Taylor starts narrating. “The man I was supposed to marry is from the Schroder family. A man that was almost 20 years my senior.”

_Schroder?_

“But...” lines formed on Roger’s forehead. “The Schroder’s is one of your business partners now, right?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Taylor nods. “But it was your father who made a deal with them, not me. And that what made your Pops even angrier.” 

“Madame, I do have a question,” calling her attention, Brian cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“What is it, dear?”

“What are your current thoughts about me and Roger… being together?”

Letting out a sigh, Mrs. Taylor took a folder next to her. She stared at it for a good 5 seconds before passing it to them both. 

“A contract?”

“An _agreement_ to be precise,” Mrs. Taylor said. “Read it. Read it carefully.”

Roger read the writings on the single sheet of paper over Brian’s shoulder.  

“You’ll _allow_ us to have a proper relationship...” disbelief was clear on Brian’s voice. “...but in exchange, you’ll want us to wait till next year, once Roger turned 21? Is that right?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Taylor confirmed. “But it doesn’t mean I’m going to forbid you on seeing each other. What I’m asking you both is to refrain from any... physical contact.” 

Roger wants nothing more but to disappear that moment. Brian looks like he just pissed himself.

“Look... I know that this is very uncomfortable for the both of you to talk about –and it’s the same for me too,” Mrs. Taylor admitted. “But I just want to get this all straightened out at once: have the two of you always been practicing safe sex?”

Instances when they didn’t use protection, flashbacks before Roger’s eyes. But it only happened twice. Or three times. What made it worse? It’s mostly because of _Roger’s_ persuasiveness. 

Perhaps it was the guilty look in their faces gave away their answer to the question. “S-Sorry… it was my fault, Mum..” 

Roger expected her to shout and swear at them again, but Mrs. Taylor just sighed once more. As if it’s her way to let out her feelings of disappointment off of her chest. 

“Alright… then tomorrow, I want the two of you to get tested just to be sure. Okay?” 

“So… that’s it?”  Roger confirmed, exchanging a look with Brian. “You just want us to wait?”

“Yes. That’s all what I’m asking,” Mrs. Taylor sips her tea again. “This way I could protect you from the law and for everyone that means harm. You two could wait for another year, right?”

Brian gives him a  _“What-do-you-think? But-I’ve-already-made-my-decision”_ look. Roger is not really in the position to bargain. It’s already a win-win offer. On top of that, they could prove whatever remaining doubt his mother have for them, about the genuineness of their love for each other.   

Silence envelopes the room after. Now that his mother had decided to accept their relationship, even though there’s a condition given (which is still quite fair), Roger thinks that he should be feeling happy and celebrating right now. Instead, he felt nothing but confusion.

“Now, I want you two to sign this paper, and I want you two to treat this as a formal agreement. In the case you two will break it, you _know_ what will happen.”

“What changed your mind, Mum?” Roger asked her after signing. 

“I’m quite curious to know, too,” Brian said, passing the folder back to Mrs. Taylor. 

“Well...” Mrs. Taylor smoothens the sleeve of her kimono. “It wasn’t an easy decision. I had to think about it over and over. There are lots of things to consider.”

“We’ve never wished you such difficulties,” Brian told her. 

“I know that, sweetheart,” a small smile appeared on her lips. “Though, you should understand that this is something that never expected to happen. And forgive me if I got so violent that night. I wouldn’t really blame you if you still hate me for raising my hand on you, Brian. And Roger. Even I hated myself for it.”

“Madame, I could never…”

Roger noticed that his mother’s eyes drifted off somewhere, somewhere really far. “That night… it felt as if I’m fighting my old self. I saw myself on Roger. On you. I also saw myself as my parents, especially my Dad, when I told them that I’ll marry no other man than Michael. I couldn’t even think straight. I just want to escape all of this. I felt betrayed. I was infuriated... to the point that I want the two of you to _disappear_ from my life.” 

Silence.

“But I know that I’ll just repeat the same mistake, if I won’t face this or if I  will just sit back and let Dad take control again. He will surely destroy you both.” 

“Is that what he meant about sending us to Conversion Therapy?” 

“Yes.”

“Speaking of which, what is a Conversion Therapy, Mum?” Roger asked.

“Well, I’ve heard about it from Tim _–_ you know my friend from Feltham? _–_ before,” Brian offered an answer instead. “Tom, Tim’s older brother, is gay. And their parents threatened him that he’ll be sent back to therapy if he is not going to stop being homosexual. Tom listed experiences such as being electrocuted, physically and sexually abused while he was there.”

“Oh my God!” Roger looked at Brian with fear in his eyes. “That is so fucking horrible!”

“Actually, I… I have something _more_ to tell you, Roger,” Mrs. Taylor bits her lower lip, nervously. Suddenly, she stood up from her seat, marches to the door, and stepped out of the room.

“Where is she going?” Brian asked, equally confused as him.

Roger didn’t respond. His eyes, too focused on watching the door, waiting for his mother to come back. A couple of minutes later, she came back with her assistant. Mr. Edmund’s expression looks like he’s in pain.

Starting by clearing his throat, Roger’s wild imagination kicks in again and starts imagining that Mr. Edmund will finally confess: that Mr. Edmund is his mother’s long time secret lover. And that she’s now carrying his child _–_

“The person who took those photos was your cousin. It was Pandora.”

“I’m sorry what?” Roger blinks twice, snapping back to reality. At the same time, Brian clasped a hand over his mouth.

“We’ve known about it for over a day now,” Mr. Edmund continued explaining. “We didn’t tell you about this because we’re expecting that you might run into her during the movie premiere’s after party.”

“And we did,” eyes narrowing, Brian clenches his jaw. “And she acted as if she hasn’t done anything wrong.” 

“Because she truly believes that she hasn’t done anything wrong,” said Mrs. Taylor. “She thinks that she’s doing _me_ a huge favor by exposing your relationship to me. That she’s saving Roger from you.” 

“She, like Mr. Hickman, thinks that I’m an opportunist, right?” 

They both nodded as response. 

“Well fuck that wench!” Roger exclaimed. “I can’t wait to see her again and give her a piece of my mind!”

Surprisingly, his mother didn’t tell Roger that she’s going to stop him or anything. Instead, her gaze moves to the framed portrait of them, dressed up as The Addams Family. “Like father, like daughter,” she quietly said to herself.  

_“The saying, ‘Like father, like son’ really is true, right, my dear daughter?”_

“Mum?” Roger suddenly remembered his grandfather’s remark. “There was something Pops was trying to tell me a while ago, _about_ Dad. What is it? What does he mean by ‘Like father, like son’?” 

“He also said about a nightmare of yours coming back…” Brian looks like he’s solving an imaginary puzzle on the coffee table in front of them, as he spoke. 

They watched as the mistress swallows the lump in her throat, lacing her shaking fingers together, waiting for her to start speaking. After a long pause passed, she finally opened her mouth but no voice came out.

“Mum, are you okay?” Roger asked worriedly.

“Y-Yes… I just…”

Mr. Edmund gently touched her shoulder. “It’s okay, Madame. I’ll tell them.”  

Mrs. Taylor looked at him, unsure. After that, she nodded.  

The assistant cleared his throat again before saying, “Six years ago, prior to Mr. Taylor’s unfortunate death, your father was in a relationship with another person. For three years…” 

Quickly calculating in his head, it means that his father had started having a secret extramarital relationship around when Roger was 12 or 13. Holding his breath, nervousness spreads all over Roger’s body like wildfire. “P-Please don’t tell me you’re going to say that I have a _secret half-sibling_ that Clare and I don’t know of. I beg you.” 

“No, Roger. Your father was in a relationship with another _man_.”

Dumbfounded, Roger just stared at his mother’s assistant. Something inside him shutdown. It almost as if his brain switched-off.  It took 2 –no, almost 5 minutes for him to completely process what Mr. Edmund said. “W-What did you say?” 

When he turned to Brian, to see if he just misheard Mr. Edmund, he found his boyfriend looking like he’s been electrocuted.

Absentmindedly poking the chunk of diamond of her wedding ring, Mrs. Taylor revealed to him, “At first, I thought that he met another woman abroad and made her his mistress. But then I realized that something was _off_ when I noticed some unfamiliar clothes from his travel luggage; they also bear a different male scent from the normal perfume that he wears.”

Despite having maids to do the packing for them, it became a ritual of Mrs. Taylor to pack and unpack their clothes whenever they’re going to travel. Coming from a middle-class background, Mr. Taylor had a very fastidious and minimalist taste when it comes to clothing, that’s why he only has a few items in his wardrobe. His father had never spent a fortune just to donning himself with luxurious numbers of clothes. Most of his branded clothes were sent to him as gifts. Or mostly, clothes that his mother custom-fitted for him. And Roger can vividly remember that his father only wore Vetiver by Guerlain for his scent. 

“I confronted him about it; he denied it. But my intuition kept me in paranoia that he’s certainly seeing another man.”

It only just then dawned on Roger. “P-Please tell me you’re joking…”

However, his mum gave Roger a look of defeat. “Your Grandfather found out about it from Jonathan. Jonathan had proof. Dad threatened Michael to have him killed. Dad had forced me to divorce your father.” 

If Roger is not mistaken, this Jonathan person that his mother was referring to was her cousin. Also, Roger’s Uncle; also Paul and Pandora’s _father_. 

“Mr. Taylor was no longer seeing that man when Mr. Jonathan Hickman found out about the relationship. Although, he was able to use his proof to corner your father,” Mr. Edmund added some bits of information. “As a pact with your Grandfather  –to keep his marriage to your mother, and keep you and Clare with him– Mr. Taylor was sent to a Conversion Therapy. He stayed there for six months: by the end of ‘64.”

“But wasn’t he in Germany back then?” 

“No, Roger. That’s what we _told_ you. But he was in Liverpool all along.” 

  _Now… now it all makes sense..._

After his father came back from that ‘German business trip’, Roger noticed the difference and the changes. The visible ugly cracks. But since he was still fairly young back then, he thought that the reason why his Dad had lost an amount of weight and the lines on his face was due to stress. 

“The therapy did more harm than good,” Mrs. Taylor confessed, getting teary again. “He begged for my forgiveness, after I found out about his relationship. But at that time... I was blinded by hate and jealousy. I stopped him from going, but he already shut me off.  And when he came back… he’s no longer the same person I fell in love with. It’s like seeing the same body, but it’s a different person.”

Quiet tears starts to stream down her face. “And then, the womanizing starts happening. I kept my eyes closed, as long as he goes home and be the best father to you and Clare. Until he met that wench Camilla.”

“Who is Camilla?” whispering, Brian asked him. 

“I- I don’t know.”

Really, Roger has zero idea.

“Camilla was your Dad’s last mistress before he passed,” Mr. Edmund told them in a sad manner. “And the most dangerous and _greedy_ one, if I may say so. They met through an acquaintance and she was able to seduce him good–”

“The bitch got herself a fancy flat, a car, and a small business of her own after whoring herself out to a married man,” wiping her tears, Mrs. Taylor bitterly interjected.  “It’s funny how karma turned and got her back when her husband left her penniless to be with his mistress while she’s pregnant and alone.”  

“Yes. It was unfortunate that she was able to get some assets,” Mr. Edmund lowered his eyes. “But it was also sad that he was on his way to her house the night he got into a car crash.”

“I do remember the Madame telling me that,” Brian blinks as he hums.

Roger gawked at them. “What are you saying? Dad came to my room that same night and told me that we’ll go to the Country Club the next morning…”

“Camilla was able to manipulatively poison your Dad’s mind, Roger,” Mr. Edmund explained. “She promised him the moon and the stars: she promised him that she’ll be a better wife to him and mother to you and your sister. She promised him another child, after learning that the mistress won’t be able to carry another one. She tore and drove him away from your mother…and the worst thing is… he believed her lies. All of it.”

Speechless, Roger felt he’s been living in a lie. He couldn’t even think straight right now. Supposedly, this talk should be about him and Brian; instead, he learned something about his family. The reason behind the fallout of his parents’ relationship. And his Dad’s dark secrets and past.  

“I was supposed to tell you about this, a year after your father’s death but… I got scared that you’ll hate me more and would accuse me of lying,” Mrs. Taylor said. “But I would want you to know the full story from me, rather than from your Grandfather or Jonathan.” 

Long period of silence filled the room once more. Roger was still stunned with the revelation he heard.  

“This man… that Mr. Taylor was in a relationship with…” breaking the silence, Brian curiously asked. “Is he still alive? Does he know that Mr. Taylor had already passed?”

“Yes, he’s still very much alive, Brian,” Mrs. Taylor confirmed. “In fact, he was there during Michael’s burial.”

Roger looked at his mother quizzically. His father’s private burial was only attended by immediate family members and closest friends. If he could remember it correctly, there were only at least thirty or forty funeral goers who came and mourn with them.  

Mrs. Taylor nods at him, as if she fully understood Roger’s questioning gaze. “Yes, Roger. You do _know_ who that person is.”

 _But who among them?_ Roger tried to remember the male faces that he saw that day. “W-Was it Mr. Geldof? He was really close to Dad and would travel with him often. Perhaps, Mr. Hariss’s because they went to the same private school together? Or, or–” 

“Roger.”

Making a side-way glance, the mansion’s heir saw the somberness in Mr. Edmund’s eyes.

“It was _me._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tu es a moi = "You're mine"
> 
> *J'ignore de quoi vous parlez = "I don't know what you're talking about"
> 
> *Se depecher! = "Hurry up!"
> 
> -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
> 
>  
> 
> HELLO~~!!! I AM STILL ALIVE! (Ｔ▽Ｔ) 
> 
> How are you all? I hope you are well, wherever you are right now~! 
> 
> BTW, have you all watched and listened to Freddie's 'Time waits for no one'? ❤
> 
> Anyway, I am so happy that I was finally able to upload the full Chapter. The struggle IS real with this one as you can see. I sincerely appreciate your patience with me, and for still following the story.
> 
> Shoutout to MS Word and Google Drive for helping me with this one! ╥﹏╥
> 
>  
> 
> Since we're quite close to the end, just want to give you a little hint: I'm planning to do a One Shot story on Chapter 15 —only if I'm able to fit the story's conclusion and Epilogue on Chapter 14. If not, that will be added as another Special Chapter ;) 
> 
> As always your comments are very much welcome and appreciated. I just want to share that I re-read them whenever I’m feeling down and homesick, as I am still travelling. And Thank YOU so much for the Kudos — oh my gosh! Y’all snapped! I practically shouted when I saw them numbers when I logged in this afternoon! (இ௦இ)
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ====
> 
> “What do you think?”
> 
> “...Gayer”
> 
> “Not this, darling, the house!”


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